Star Fox: Unforeseen Consequences
by Tankz745
Summary: General Pepper looses contact with a Cornerian exploration ship as it's leaving Lylat, and sends Star Fox to investigate. Things aren't as they seem with the ship however, and Fox's investigation into the ship's true purpose begins to attract attention from within the Cornerian Navy's ranks, and outside...
1. Chapter 1

**Lylat System, Deep space**

**7 ALW **(after Lylat wars)

**Cornerian exploration ship _Pathfinder_**

* * *

_**Updated April 3rd. **_Hi all, this fic was originally rated M, but I've decided to bring it down to a T rating to attract a wider reader base. I know the first few chapters are messy, but they get better as they go along.

* * *

Deep space exploration was considered by many to be a fruitless and treacherous endeavor to partake in. It was always said that the tech to allow a ship to venture too far away from the Lylat system didn't exist, or even if it did, the ship's crew would eventually go insane from being trapped in a metal can for the months it would take to reach the nearest star. Other things like random debris, asteroid fields, and extreme levels of radiation frying the ship and/or crew was also something to account for when it came to deep space travel. Despite the risks and cost on the taxpayers, the CNV _Pathfinder_ was launched.

It's mission was fairly simple, it's planned route was a long haul of three months to Lylat's nearest stellar neighbor, a class-G star named _Vega._ While it wasn't technically the closest star to Lylat, it was the closest one that could potentially support life. The _actual_ nearest star to Lylat was a nasty little (relatively) pulsar called _Siras._ Siras_, _for some reason gave out almost immeasurable amounts of cosmic radiation in a rather small area, right in the planned route of the pathfinder. In order to solve this rather deadly problem, Beltnio toad and his engineering team had cooked up a new metal alloy that was rather good at soaking up radiation. Good enough to pass along the edge of Siras's stupid radiation field without frying the crew and the ship.

As of now the Pathfinder was cruising slowly through the sparse asteroid field that separated Lylat from Deep, uncharted space. The vessel itself was a long stick of a ship, it's main hull a long metal truss with giant cylindrical fuel tanks near the rear along with the main engines. Mounted to the front of the truss was a vaguely rectangular hull section housing the bridge, crew quarters, engineering and hydroponics bay, and life support along with a small hangar to launch shuttles and other support craft from. Along the main hull were various antennas and sensors, completed with a metallic gray paint job. It had no real weapons, only point defense weapons in the form of small laser turrets to swat down any debris that threaten to come near the ship.

Sitting in the bridge's command chair overlooking the various crew stations for controlling and monitoring the ship's systems sat a red vulpine, wearing the standard issue Cornerian military uniform with a golden captain's insignia. With a datapad in one paw and a cup of coffee in the other, Captain Richard Donnelly stared through the front view port into the infinite void of space. They had only been traveling for a few days now and were nearing the edge of the Lylat system itself, soon they would be clear of the sparse asteroid belt and into deep space. Once free of the belt they could fully utilize the main engine's extreme power and fuel efficiency. Until then however, they had to crawl along though the belt in order to minimize the threat of being detected by the pirates and criminals known to prowl around the outer belt. It would only take a quick burst of full thrust to rapidly increase the Pathfinder's thermal signature, it's fusion shunt drive was powerful but ran incredibly hot. Hot enough to be easily detected by even the cheapest of sensor systems.

Richard took a long sip of his coffee, draining almost a third of the cup in one go. The bridge was in-between crew rotations, with only two critical personal manning the sensors and engineering crew stations, not counting the Captain himself. The flight had been fortunately uneventful so far, minus some anomalous energy readings while passing through the Meteos asteroid field. The ship's sensors read it as a "High energy detonation" of no less than "15 _megatons_". It didn't matter to Richard though, it was too far away to be of concern. "_Just another thing to log..." _he thought. Sitting at the sensors terminal was another vulpine, the soft glow from the screen faintly illuminating her solid white coat of fur and military uniform. The screen she was stationed at displaying multiple sensor readouts from the ship's highly specialized (and expensive) sensor array. Nothing out of the ordinary yet, just the occasional asteroid a few hundred thousand kilometers away along with clouds of ice particles floating in the void.

"Anything interesting, Lieutenant?" the Captain called from his chair.

"No sir, just the usual nothing." Nora said back.

Nora Stevenson had been very fortunate to get a spot aboard the Pathfinder, while she had above average marks in the only military academy that was willing to take her, she only got the position because of a mistake by the recruiter in charge of finding candidates for the Pathfinder's crew. She got lucky again with her position aboard the ship as bridge crew, only thing that was needed was to watch the sensor readouts all day, and the only one she answered to was the Captain. She continued to watch the screen, only half awake.

"_We're not gonna find anything out here." _Nora told herself.

As if just to disprove her, the screen flashed with a new message, along with a droning male voice that blared through the bridge: _Warning, impact imminent. Readjust flight vector. _

"Full reverse! Now!" the Captain yelled across the bridge.

The helmsmen, a grey Husky, raced his paws across the touchscreen to throw the main engine into full reverse. At the back of the ship, the large engine's exhaust changed it's shape to force the thrust backwards, the sudden change in speed overwhelming the ship's G-diffusers entirely. Reaction control systems fired forward and right to desperately throw the ship off a collision course with whatever they were about to run into. In the distance, an object could be seen through the bridge's front window. It was still getting **bigger** and **bigger**. The bridge crew could see it now, it was _no asteroid. _Richard toggled on the ship wide announcement system and screamed into the microphone.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT! NOW!"

The pathfinder slammed into the black object, the desperate last second maneuvering having paid off and preventing a head on impact. The ship blew past the mystery object, it sideswiping the entire right side of the pathfinder, shredding outer hull plating and pulverizing expensive equipment unlucky to be in it's way into shiny scrap metal. The main truss the fuel tanks were mounted to was spared, however, the object plowed into one of the six fuel tanks. It was torn open, the mixture of propellant spraying off into space then rapidly freezing from the extreme temperature of the void. The black chunk of matter then wedged itself halfway down the split remains of the fuel tank, thankfully still attached to the ship. The impact caused the entire pathfinder into a slow but steady horizontal spin. Captain Richard was thrown forward from his chair from the impact, his head slamming into a railing separating the elevated captain's chair from the lowered crew stations, knocking him out cold.

* * *

**800,000 kilometers away...**

* * *

This particular area of space was home to a giant particle cloud, a good 15,000 miles across in some places. These clouds of ice particles were pretty common in the outer belt, being the leftovers from when the Lylat system was still being formed a few billion years ago. Full sized asteroids did exist out here, just being in extreme orbits and rather rare. Deep within the cloud, another ship floated along. From a distance, anyone even slightly familiar with space travel would recognize this ship as a _Lakon_ class heavy freighter. These ships were commonly seen hauling vast amounts of bulk goods in the system's loosely established shipping corridors between the inner and outer planets. A closer look would reveal this freighter had a more sinister purpose.

It had a blood-red paint job, with a large stylized canid skull painted in bone white on both sides. Rows and rows of shipping containers mounted to the central hull had been haphazardly welded together to make more usable interior space, with plates of old industrial-grade steel bolted to the side for armor. Anything that could be bent sticking out from the side of the hull was folded at various angles to form jagged spikes. Numerous battle trophies were mounted to the hull, some being the remains of smaller ships. Others being hull plating from larger targets, one being a scrap of plating from a Conerian destroyer, the CNV _Treadstone._

Along the side of the hull, a small army of turrets were bolted, welded and strapped on. These were a mixture of old ballistic autocannons, missile pods and blaster turrets.

This was the _Galleon, _a ship 'owned' and operated by the ruthless and exclusively lupine pirate gang _The crimson dawn. _They were well known and feared among the outer reaches of Lylat where the Cornerian navy rarely operated. While they weren't the largest pirate group, they were one of the most brutal and effective in all of Lylat and had been a thorn in Corneria's side for years, even during the war. They were known to attack all but the most hardened of military targets, stealing and kidnapping who and whatever they could and just killing and destroying what they could not, survivors of their raids were rare. Too rare.

The Galleon's bridge was similar to the Pathfinder's, a central chair with crew stations sunk into the floor. Sitting in the captain's chair was, as expected, a giant of a lupine. This was Captain _Vladimir 'Butcher' Petrov._ Vlad was wearing an old venomian general's uniform, no doubt looted off the corpse of one of Andross's head generals shortly after the war. Despite Dr. Andross Bowman being dead and Venom firmly under Cornerian occupation, the remnants of the Venomian Empire still fought on, mainly using guerrilla tactics to avoid being obliterated by orbital bombardment. Some of their ships had escaped the Cornerian 5th, 6th and 9th fleets during the final siege of Venom to escape and hide all around Lylat. One of these ships had been unlucky enough to run into the Galleon.

Vlad took a long drag of his cigar, puffing out a cloud of smoke across the bridge. They had just attempted yet another raid, this time on a freighter hauling military supplies to the fleets stationed at Venom. The ship appeared unarmed when they approached to fire to disable it's engines, however this ship was packing a nasty surprise. It had disguised heavy military-grade nuclear torpedoes mounted inside shipping containers. When the Galleon and it's other support ship, the _Cutlass _got close, the freighter let loose with a barrage of nuclear torpedoes, 20 kilotons each. They were forced to flee, the Galleon's powerful engines able to outrun the atomic fire, however the Cutlass was unable to outmaneuver the attack and was caught in the blast.

Now, with an empty cargo hold and low on fuel, Vladimir was getting desperate. He needed to return back to base with _something_ in his hold. Until they found someone to raid however, they were stuck tying to find an ice asteroid to convert into fuel. Him and his crew had been itching for a fight.

"Hey capn', I think I got something!" Said the black wolf watching a sensors readout screen dressed in a stained Cornerian navy uniform, with the markings and insignia's torn off.

"Big-ass heat sig just popped up, we gonna check it out?" Vladimir spoke with a thick, Venomian accent,

"Yes, perhaps we will finally be rewarded for our... persistence." He took another long, smokey drag of his cigar.

"Full throttle ahead." Vlad spoke into the console for the ship's communications system.

"_Attention all crew, we have found a potential target, prepare your weapons and gear for boarding action."_

* * *

Captain Richard awoke to the sounds of the ship's blaring klaxon and flashing red emergency lighting. He slowly picked himself off the deck with a groan and took a look around the bridge, all he remembered was the impact and getting thrown forwards into the railing. The familiar sounds of small-arms fire echoed through the ship, followed by a faint _boom. _"_Warning: major hull breach detected."_

"Damnit..."

Another explosion rocked the whole ship, nearly throwing Richard off his feet. The ship's automated system droned again: "_Warning: Atmosphere lost in decks three, four, five and seven." _Another moan came from the deck, it was Nora trying to pick herself off the floor. The Captain immediately noticed the trail of blood flowing down her right leg, a shard of glass from the terminal she had been watching—now just a shattered frame, was embedded in her left leg below the knee. "Wait, don't stand on that." said Richard, looking at Nora, who then leaned against one of the bridge railings to take weight off her injured leg. Every major room in a Cornerian navy ship had a wall-mounted field medical kit, which thankfully had remained attached to the wall, directly left of the heavyset blast doors separating the bridge from the rest of the ship.

Nora gave out a pained _yip _as Richard pulled the glass shard out of her leg. He was about to start shoving as many gauze sponges into her wound as he physically could when Richard heard a barrage of footsteps and voices in the main deck corridor behind the blast doors. The sound of a heavy cutting torch igniting, then the orange glowing dot of the blast doors being super heated from the other side followed soon after. The bridge had a small weapons locker—now wedged upside down behind another computer terminal. Richard stormed over to the locker and practically tore it open. There wasn't much inside, a handful of fragmentation grenades, one AR-19B blaster carbine and a pair of S&K E-19's: the standard issue Cornerian military sidearm. The pistol was known for it's good balance of stopping power and accuracy, as well as it's ability to fail when it was needed most. None of that mattered this instant though, the Captain carried his own personal sidearm, an old 44. magnum passed down from his father.

Richard grabbed two grenades and the carbine, which he then tossed across the room to Nora, along with the gun's two extra power cells. She caught it with her free right paw, the other one still wrapping an adhesive bandage around her leg. She flicked off the weapon's safety and shouldered it at the door. Whoever was cutting though the door was almost done, a black trail of burnt metal, still glowing a faint orange from the heat of the cutting torch as it made it's way around the door frame. Richard twisted the hand grenade's body to set the fuse to 'impact' and readied a toss at the door. The cutting torch finished it's job, the blast door, now free from it's frame fell forwards and slammed into the deck. Richard hurled the grenade towards the jagged metal door frame, immediately taking cover after throwing it. The frag went off almost instantly, it's deadly payload of shrapnel fanning out everywhere. The screams of the boarders followed immediately afterwords, despite their full suits of combat armor designed to absorb blaster shots eating most of the grenade's payload, the powerful pressure wave and spray of shrapnel taking out the pirate assault team.

Anyone who survived the blast was torn up by Nora's carbine, streaks of white ionized gas tore into whoever was left, their broken armor doing little to stop them. The hallway was clear now, the ground scorched from the grenade with a black blast mark mixed in with sickening red stains. With the bridge defended for the moment, Richard ran back to his command terminal to assess the Pathfinder's systems. He began to watch the readouts of the ship's still functional systems, his face going pale and fur standing on end.

To put it lightly: It wasn't good.

Only a few critical systems were still operational, power was only being supplied by the backup fuel cells. Oxygen recycling was offline entirely as well as communications, the engines were no longer responding to any input commands either.

None of the other decks were responding to comms, most of them had been breached anyway, anyone who had survived had most likely been overwhelmed by the pirates. To make matters worse, multiple electrical fires had started aboard the decks that hadn't been breached and were slowly spreading out. The ship's reactor had also been punctured and was no longer operational, it's built-in shutdown system was the only thing preventing it from going nuclear.

In other words, the ship was doomed.

With a drawn out sigh, Richard spoke: "That's it, we're abandoning ship." Nora, still watching the door—what was left of it anyway, with her carbine. She spoke up.

"Sir?"

"That's an order Lieutenant, we need to get out of here." said Richard as he checked his magnum, noticing the slight objection in her voice.

"But sir, we might be the only ones left! We have to at least try and look for them!"

"Dammit Lieutenant, we don't have time for this! It's either us, or _nobody_!"

Nora gritted her teeth in frustration, she stared down at the deck in deep thought, contemplating the Captain's painful decision.

"Y-yes sir, let's go."

"Good, we need to find ourselves a shuttle." Richard and Nora took off down the hall, the ship effectively collapsing around them as they ran. Pipes along the hallway ruptured hot steam into the corridor, singeing exposed fur as they ran through. The hallway conveniently ran straight along the length of the ship, too bad an electrical fire had other ideas. The two foxes came upon of of the ship's bulkhead doors that had been propped open with a shelving unit, jamming the door only halfway closed. The gap was big enough to crawl under. Richard went first, laying down on his belly as he crawled under the door and to the other side. Nora went after him.

The metal shelf begun to audibly _groan_, it was beginning to be overwhelmed by the door's hydraulic mechanism. Nora panicked and scrambled to get through the gap, only just standing up as the heavy door completely squashed the metal blockage, missing the very tip of her tail by just a few inches.

They continued running until they reached the hangar near the middle of the ship. Inside was the bloody leftovers of a gruesome battle between the crew and the pirates. Crates had been stacked up to serve as cover for the defending crew, whose bodies littered the hangar deck along with multiple pirates. The defenders initially had an advantage with their small wall of crates for cover and that the pirates only came in with shuttles—who's deployment doors served as a deadly choke point. They quickly lost it however when the pirates bought in heavy weapons—one of the bodies was clad in a suit of power armor with a large automatic grenade launcher on the floor nearby, it's drum of 40 millimeter high explosive ammunition laying next to it; he was caught reloading.

Near the back of the hangar sat a shuttle, it was one of the navy's larger models with a separate cockpit and troop bay. It was, thankfully, intact. Only a few black marks from small-arms fire dotted it's hull, but nothing appeared blown off or otherwise missing. Another explosion rocked the hangar as the two ran towards the shuttle, throwing Nora off her feet. A literal wall of fire poured out of the doorway they used to enter the hangar, giant fireball filling the large open room. Richard hauled Nora off the deck, practically pulling her to the shuttle's rear door as the Pathfinder's hangar bay began to collapse around them.

"Can you fly this thing Lieutenant?" Richard asked as they both sat down in the shuttle cockpit's adjacent pilot seats.

"Sort of, I was never too good with these things!"

"Doesn't matter! Get us out of here!"

Nora flicked the switch mounted to the front panel marked 'Startup sequence', the shuttle's two engines began to warm up. The various screens in the cockpit lit up, displaying the transport's system status, none of these were too important at the moment however. What _did _matter was the bar gauge indicating the ship's fuel supply—reading a healthy 83 percent. Nora gripped the throttle lever and flight stick, pulling it slightly back to angle the shuttle up and out of the hangar. She shoved the throttle forwards, the whole shuttle vibrating as it's twin engines shunted it forwards out of the hangar and into the endless void of space.

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**Author's notes:**

**This will be the beginning of my (hopefully) first full-length story. Yeah, I know the writing isn't top notch or bleeding quality, this is only the second thing I've written just for fun, so don't expect it to be as good as some of the other fics here. I'll try and improve my writing as I update this, any feedback on this is welcome and greatly appreciated! Well, helpful feedback anyways...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Lylat system, Location unknown.**

**7 ALW **(after Lylat wars)

* * *

Fox McCloud pulled the flight stick backwards towards him as hard as he could, his Space Dynamics Arwing model C pulling into a steep climb. This would have pancaked any space fighter's pilot with the sheer G-forces involved if it wasn't for the powerful G-diffusers preventing the vulpine from passing out. His pursuer shot underneath him, unable to follow the Arwing through its sharp pitch upwards. He completed his loop, getting on the tail of the ship that was chasing him. Without hesitation, Fox squeezed the trigger on the stick, sending a barrage of automatic laser cannon fire towards his target. The shots would never connect however, his target preformed a sharp barrel roll left, Fox's shots flying off into this starless void he found himself in. Fox still had no idea where he was, it was nothing like space in appearance; no distant stars twinkled in the background, no planets, asteroids or other objects common to space could be seen anywhere. It was just an inky black area of, _nothing._

A gruff voice came over the comms system. "_HA! Not good enough, pup!"_

Fox recognized this voice well, too well. It belonged to none other than Wolf O'donnell, Fox's long-time rival of 8 years and counting. Fox had no idea how he had found himself here with him, but then again, the scarred lupine had a bad habit of showing up at the worst time possible.

"That pass was sloppy Wolf, even for you." Fox gritted his teeth as he growled back to wolf, an iron paw gripping the flight stick.

"_Doesn't matter pup! You'll be space dust in just a bit anyways!"_

Wolf's fighter banked into a hard-right turn in an attempt to get behind fox's Arwing. Seeing Wolf's intent, Fox pulled his ship upwards into a tight overbanked turn to get above the flat plane of Wolf's long curve, then using the superior maneuverability of his Arwing to pull sharply upwards, placing him directly behind the wolf again. Fox let off another flurry of blaster fire at close range, this was almost guaranteed to score a hit. This time however, a split second before Fox's blasts slammed into the rear of Wolf's ship, it _vanished._

Fox's mind raced. "_A cloaking system? No, no, those shots would have hit him anyways_!"

Stealth systems were not a new concept to Fox, having encountered them built into certain models of Venomian fighter craft in the late stages of the war. Their ability to turn near invisible had only lasted for 30 seconds at most, according to Slippy, that was. Even then, a sharp eye was usually able to spot them if one knew what to look (or _not look_) for. Whatever was mounted to Wolf's ship was something else entirely, however. Fox's visor mounted over his right eye, linked to his ship's sensors, found _nothing._ No heat signatures, no energy spikes, _nothing._ Wolf had may as well never existed, Fox had no way of knowing from which direction Wolf could ambush him from. Knowing this, Fox continued to pull random maneuvers in a desperate attempt to throw off Wolf's aim whenever he did decide to pop back into reality.

Wolf's voice flooded his cockpit. "_Like I said, pup!"_

Fox's ship detected the heat signature of Wolf's ship_ directly behind him._

Fox threw the flight stick right in a desperate barrel roll, he successfully performed his trademark maneuver, expecting the shield it put up to absorb the worst of the fire. Instead of feeling the ship shudder from the impact and his shield's capacitor bank drain, a _storm_ of _kinetic rounds_ tore into his hull, turning expensive lightweight alloy and electronics into ribbons of scrap. His shield was _Ignored entirely_.

_Nobody_ used kinetic weapons mounted to ships anymore! Fox's Arwing was crippled in a single burst by Wolf's cannon. "_Warning: major internal damage detected, seek immediate repair"_ the Arwing's onboard computer spoke in a droning, female voice. He had lost his entire ability to maneuver; a fat round had probably buried itself in his main engine.

His sensors had somehow been spared by Wolf's assault of lead. They again found_ nothing._

"_Bastard cloaked again!" _Fox screamed internally to no one in particular.

The ship's reaction control thrusters had been able to stop his Arwing's flat spin, locking his view in one direction. Fox tasted copper in his mouth, the telltale sign of blood. He looked around his cockpit, a mess of glass, metal fragments, cloth and globs of his own blood floated around in the empty space. The canopy had formed a spiderweb of cracks; it's reinforced coating the only thing keeping it from completely shattering.

A flash of light blinked directly in from of him, Wolf's fighter seemingly _appearing _from it. Fox noticed the large, rotary cannon mounted on the nose, It's three barrels faintly glowing red from recent use. Wolf's voice filled what was left of Fox's cockpit.

"_Well pup, looks like your little journey ends here! Thanks for the practice with this cannon though, I think I'm gonna like this thing!"_

Fox said nothing back, only giving a defiant glare across the empty space at Wolf, having a primal grin stretched across his muzzle. Wolf squeezed the trigger for his new cannon, it's three barrels revving up to fire. Fox closed his eyes, waiting for Wolf to finish what was started 8 years ago.

The cannon let out a torrent of bullets, shredding what was left of Fox's Arwing into a cloud of unrecognizable, expensive scrap metal.

* * *

Fox McCloud snapped awake in his bed, eyes wide as dinner plates and heart racing. Darting his vision around his bedroom, expecting to still be in the cockpit of his doomed arwing. Once he realized his life wasn't in immediate danger, he let out a drawn-out breath and sat up in his bed. His fight with Wolf had been just a nasty dream. He was safe—for the moment. It was still dark outside, as evidenced by the lack of light bleeding through the tinted glass panels of his room. His bedside alarm clock read 5:06 AM; he had woken up nearly two hours earlier than usual.

"_Dammit, so much for sleeping eight hours again..."_

Fox pulled himself to his feet and walked over to his closet, the room automatically turning up the lights after sensing his movement. He threw on a pair of gray sweatpants and a white sleeveless shirt, then groggily making his way to the kitchen. The glass panels in the hallway were pitch black from the nighttime, only the distant twinkling lights of Corneria City could be seen in the distance. Fox's house was built near the top of a shallow hill, giving the place an incredible view of the city's skyline. Fox had got the place cheap, the previous owner giving him a steep discount for "Being the savior of the Lylat system!" as they had put it when Fox bought it.

Fox walked into the house's kitchen and poured himself a bowl of cereal, sitting down on the couch facing the window overlooking Corneria City a few miles away. The lights of the skyscrapers of downtown and the river of headlights from the multiple highways weaving around the region gleaming back at him from a distance. Fox panned his gaze across the skyline, as two small, glowing cyan lights caught his attention. _"That's weird…"_ Fox thought as he tried taking a closer look, the sheer contrast to the city's distant yellow and white lights making the two easy to spot. He only got a quick look however; the two cyan dots seemed to vanish, the piercing darkness of the woods surrounding the house swallowing them whole.

"_The hell… Yeah, I'm not awake yet."_

Fox's smartphone buzzed awake, receiving an incoming call. His eyes squinted from the bright light of the screen, slowly adjusting to from the relative darkness of the room. The screen read "_Restricted" _Where the caller's number normally would have been. This could only mean one thing; Old General Pepper had decided to call him at 5 in the morning.

"_This better be important…"_

Fox tapped the screen to accept the call and raised the phone to his ear, The General's didn't even wait for Fox to say hello.

"_Ah, Fox, glad you could take my call at this hour." _Pepper said with a gruff voice.

"This better be good, General…" Fox whispered into his phone.

"_Oh, I assure you Fox, this is." _

Pepper gave out a long sigh through the phone, this _shouldn't_ have happened.

"_It's the Pathfinder; we lost contact with its comms beacon a few hours ago. We've heard nothing from the ship since."_

Fox knew little about the CNV Pathfinder; other than it was one of the latest ships to try and leave Lylat. Plagued by delays and technical issues, only getting fixed recently and finally getting underway with its mission five months behind schedule.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised you lost it already. I'd have better chances with my arwing than that expensive stick with engines ever could." Fox replied.

"_Damnit Fox, I don't need your attitude right now!" _said Pepper, a hint of annoyance in his voice becoming clear to Fox.

"Fine. Let me guess; you want me and my team to go look for it? Why can't you just hire some salvage company to go find it anyways?"

Peppers voice got notably quieter._ "Because I can trust you with sensitive information, Fox. I can't with a bunch of civilians, or even my own soldiers sometimes."_

"_Sensitive information?"_ Fox thought to himself; the Pathfinder was just an exploration ship, why would anything even remotely classified be involved?

Fox pressed for more information, "What do you mean by 'sensitive information', Pepper? Something you're not telling me?"

Pepper sighed again, _"All I'm authorized to tell you is that it's related to the Pathfinders mission. It wasn't sent towards the Vega system just for colonization, after all…"_

"And that reason being? General, if it's anything I should be worried about, I need to know."

"_I'm sorry Fox; like I said, that's all I'm authorized to tell you." _Pepper cleared his throat "_Now, as I was saying: The only thing you and your team need to do is find the Pathfinder and recover it's flight data recorder, before I'm forced to send my own search team."_

Fox wolfed down the first mouthful of his cereal, it being slightly soggy from sitting in milk, "I take it that recorder has all that 'sensitive information' you want back?"

"_Yes, I'll send you any mission critical data_ _to the Great Fox's computer systems_—_provided you accept this mission, of course. Speaking of which…"_

Fox had another mouthful of cereal, "Do I really have a choice with this?"

Another sigh escaped the General's mouth,_ "I'm afraid not Fox, that data could… well, all I'll say is this: the status quo of Lylat would be rather disturbed if that data gets out."_

"Uh, alright then. How much time are you allowing with this?"

"_Three days, starting now. I can't keep the Pathfinder's disappearance secret for too much longer I'm afraid."_

"Well, looks like I have my work cut out for me then. I'll send you updates on this whenever I can, General."

"_Thank you, Fox, I won't take any more of your time, Pepper out."_

Fox finished his early breakfast and then began to wake up the rest of the team, starting with Peppy; he was better at dealing with Falco's sleepy wrath.

* * *

A few hours and cups of coffee later, the whole _Star fox_ team sat gathered around the briefing room table, the morning light pouring into the room through the windows. The team was still in various states of waking up, with Fox being the only one even remotely ready for leaving earlier than usual. Falco was still half-asleep—only paying a slight amount of attention. Peppy was still in his bath robe, having just got of the shower but was otherwise mostly awake. Slippy being somewhere in between the hare and the blue avian in terms of being awake.

Fox spoke up, "Alright, now that everyone's here…"

Falco collapsed in his chair; sleep finally overtaking him again. Followed by a deep snore emitting from his beak.

"FALCO!" Fox yelled, the avian snapped awake almost as fast as he dozed off.

"U-uh, what? Oh, uh, sorry…" Falco groggily said back.

Fox narrowed his eyes at the bird briefly, then continued.

"Now, as I was saying. I got a call from General Pepper a few hours ago about another mission he had for us."

The table lit up, a holographic image of the whole Lylat system being displayed in a soft blue popped up. The map zoomed in to the coordinates gave by Pepper, it was effectively in the middle of nowhere.

Fox spoke up again, "The mission's pretty simple, in theory. That new deep-space ship that was launched a few weeks ago…"

Peppy chimed in, "Ha! I knew that fancy bucket of a ship wouldn't even make it outta' the system!"

"Exactly, it's transponder beacon went silent a few days ago. So old Pepper's sending us out to go find it…" Fox said back.

"Wait, wait, wait." It was Falco, "So, pepper wants us to fly out to the middle a' nowhere, then look around for a ship that's probably just a wreck by now? I'm sorry Foxie, but I aint too sure that's worth our time…"

"Glad you asked Falco. Well, turns out the ship's data recorder has some classified data on it, data that Pepper doesn't want getting out." Fox replied.

"Data huh? What kinda' data? Pepper's search history? What he keeps in Area 12 down on Macbeth?" said Falco.

"Hell, you might be right for all I know. He wasn't exactly forthcoming with information. What I do know is that we have a limited window to pull this off—Pepper can't keep the fact that their new, expensive ship just disappeared for too much longer."

Fox decided to finish up the briefing "Alright, any questions?"

Peppy spoke up "Yeah, do we know what exactly happened to the Pathfinder? Other than it just stopped responding?"

"No, I hate to say it, but we don't."

* * *

**Corneria City, Apollo Spaceport.**

* * *

Fox and his team strolled out of the light-rail train and stepped onto the station's concrete platform; the cool morning air breezed down the platform, giving Fox a slight chill. Across the parking lot sat the Apollo Spaceport: Corneria's third largest ground-based spaceport, it's large steel and concrete administration building being the first thing coming into view. Behind the admin building sat the spaceport itself; a massive grid of steel framework and infrastructure making up the numerous docking bays. Hundreds of ships came and left every week, from the smallest of personal shuttles to the gigantic bulk freighters hauling thousands of tons of goods from one end of Lylat to the other.

Fox and his team walked through the front doors of the admin building, its heated interior providing relief from the chill of outside. He strolled up to the reception desk, a Husky was sitting behind the counter, filing through the small mountain of paperwork before him. He noticed Fox, a look of relief growing on his face; hopefully this vulpine would take enough to finish his shift without doing anymore damn paperwork. The Husky spoke up when Fox approached the desk.

"Hello, can I help you with anything?" said the Husky, following the standard greeting that was wrote in the employee's handbook for the spaceport.

"Yeah, I'm looking to get my ship out of long-term storage?" Fox replied. "It's a light tactical carrier, white paint job?"

The husky sat down in his office chair and rolled himself over to a computer, beginning to search for a ship of the Fox's description. Fox sat down in one of the armchairs in the lobby and pulled out his phone, his green eyes scanning the virtual pile of junk mail he had yet to delete.

"_Another shady Aquan banking service, delete… ad for Smith and Kepler small-arms, delete… Fountunian prince wants money, delete…"_

Fox's fur stood on-end, the distinct feeling of being watched creeping upon him. He looked around the lobby, expecting to see Falco leaning over his shoulder and reading Fox's email. No, Falco was over by the small, automated café with Peppy getting yet another coffee. Slippy was sitting across from fox, eyes buried in a _Mechanics Monthly _magazine. Fox stared out the lobby window, across the parking lot and rail-line into the woods. The two cyan dots were back, almost as if glaring back at him from the tree line.

Fox grabbed his blaster pistol from its holster and ran for the door, only Peppy noticed him sprint for the exit.

"Fox! Where the hell you goin'! Peppy yelled, Fox ignored him, however.

The vulpine dashed across the spaceport's parking lot, traffic was light so the risk of being flattened by an SUV was minimal. Fox pulled himself over the chain-link fence separating the lot from the rail station, he leaped across the tracks and ran into the woods. He raised his pistol, lining up the front and rear sights and began searching for who—or what, was watching him.

His search turned up nothing, whoever was doing this knew how to cover their tracks; no footprints in the dirt were left behind, nothing to suggest anyone had been here.

"Bastard…" Fox said to himself.

"Fox! What the hell are you doin' over there?"

Fox whipped around at the sound of his name, aiming his pistol at the source. It was Peppy; he had followed Fox across the parking lot and was standing on the other side of the fence.

"Dammnit Fox! Put that thing down!" Peppy yelled across the tracks.

"Oh, u-uh, shit, sorry Peppy..."

Fox walked back to the fence, panting from his sprint into the woods. Peppy spoke again.

"What the hell's gotten to you, Fox? You just drew your gun and bolted out here!"

"Peppy, I… I think someone's watching us. I-I keep seeing these two lights in the woods, but whenever I try to look closer, they… they just disappear!"

"Fox, you know you start seein' things when you don't sleep well."

"No, no, it's not like that, it's the same two lights that I saw this morning before Pepper called…"

Peppy sighed, "Look, Fox, we're all tired here—hell, Falco's still barely awake too. Come on Inside and get another coffee."

"Yeah, good idea…"

Fox and Peppy walked back to the admin building, the heater again providing refuge from the chilly winter air. Peppy handed Fox another cup of coffee as he walked to the front desk.

"Ah, here we are." The husky said, "Your ship is parked in bay 83B, the _Great Fox_ correct?"

"Yep, the one and only." Fox replied with a small grin.

"I'll unlock the doors for you, Mr. McCloud. Just take a left at the end of the hall, one of the trams should already be waiting for you."

The tram glided down its rail, small repulsor pads on the undercarriage ensuring a smooth ride. The giant jungle of durasteel and concrete framework making up the spaceport's storage bays whizzing past. Fox looked out the window, seeing the distinct solid white paint job and angled hull plating of the Star Fox's team mothership, The Great Fox. The small tram approached the platform and came to a halt, its doors opening with a pneumatic _hiss._ The team stepped off; the station conveniently close to the Great Fox's landing bay. Fox walked across the concrete landing pad, the ship's majestic, angled hull plating towering over him.

The team took the elevator built into the giant framework of the spaceport to an access bridge, leading across to one of the ships airlocks. Fox pulled back a small hatch next to the airlock door on the hull, a small keypad under it.

"You still remember ya' access code, Foxy?" Falco called.

Fox's eyes narrowed, "Dammit Falco, you gotta stop calling me that." he rolled his eyes, "And yeah, I still know it, I'm not stupid…"

Fox reached out with his paw to put in his code.

_1-3-9-4? _The keypad beeped, it's small screen flashing _Access Denied_

_Oh crap… _Fox thought to himself, _looks like it's time to be an idiot in front of my whole team again…_

He tried the pad again, _1-9-8-4?_

Same result. Falco leaned over. "Ehhhhhh, I dunno' Foxy… You so sure bout' that?"

Fox spun around, glaring at the bird, "Shut up Falco! I don't need this from you right now!"

Peppy sighed, walking over to where Fox stood, "Knock it off you two!" He said, shaking his head. "I swear, one a' these days ya' bickering is gonna get someone killed…"

Peppy put in his own code, the keypad turning green and the airlock door sliding open. Peppy walked inside the ship. Fox looked back at Falco, a smug grin across his beak as he walked past.

_I know he's just always teasing me, but I'm getting real sick of his 'jokes'… _Fox thought, following Falco inside the ship.

* * *

**Location [REDACTED], date [REDACTED]**

* * *

"_General Noveru, you were right; Our inventory and maintenance logs are inconsistent, we're missing an entire space-superiority fighter from one of our assault carrier's usual strike-craft armament."_

"Which model? With any luck it's not of one the prototypes…"

The voice over the communications channel sighed, _"Our records indicate it is, unfortunately."_

"Do we know where it was lost? Or how?" Noveru asked, her canid eyes narrowing at the news.

"_As for how, no, we don't. What we do know however is where, roughly, at least. Unfortunately, I don't have time at the moment to tell you the details in person, I'll forward everything we know to you directly, however."_

"Thank you, sir." She responded, "I imagine you want me in charge of recovering that prototype?"

"_Correct, I'm giving you complete jurisdiction over this operation, as well as all the manpower and resources you need for it."_

"Thank you, Grand Marshal. I'll see that this gets done."

"_Good. Now, we both know the potential risk if someone finds that prototype. Rather, catastrophic, risks…"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Lylat System, Great Fox**

**7 ALW**

* * *

Fox McCloud woke up to the sound of blasting music pouring though the walls. Not just any music, though; Falco's awful mixtape. Fox groaned; he had gone over this with this friend before. Fox didn't care for the bird's music, he had never kept up any music himself; he didn't know who was signing, probably some low-tier local artist though. Fortuna had a ton of those, probably too many.

_Dammnit Falco…_

Fox sat up in his bed, the foam mattress conforming to his new posture. He reached over with his paw and grabbed the black smartphone off his bedside table, yanking the charger out with a swift tug, white power cable flopping to the carpet. Fox tapped the screen, the phone waking up from its slumber and turning on, displaying local Cornerian time that him and his team had been adjusted to before they left.

**7:04 AM**

_Waking up like this better not become a theme here…_

Fox pulled off his bedsheets and swung his legs over the bedframe. He was wearing nothing but a pair of his boxers; his usual attire for sleeping. Standing up, immediately finding it difficult to keep his balance with his tired haze of being half-awake. He tripped over a pair of his durasteel-reinforced combat boots sitting next to his bed and toppling to the carpeted floor with a _thunk_.

_Dammnit Falco…_

Fox slowly picked himself off the carpet and stood up, his bushy tail thrashing in anger. He hobbled over to his walk-in closet, sliding open the glass door. Fox grabbed a charcoal-gray sleeveless shirt and sweatshirt, unfolding both and throwing them on, wincing as he pulled his tail through his shorts. He glanced around his closet again, noticing a wooden-framed photo resting on the top shelf; It was of Fox and Fara from years ago when the two were still teenagers. Fox grabbed the framed picture from the top shelf with his paw, taking a closer look. It showed the two on some beach on Aquas, the white sand and ocean contrasting in the background, with the two in the foreground. Fox with a stupid grin across his face with Fara wrapping her arms around him in a hug with an equally stupid smile across her muzzle. Fox's lips turned upwards into a small grin. The entire picture was slightly misaligned, Slippy had probably taken the photo.

_Simpler times…_

Fara had disappeared from his life long ago, Fox had been trying to contact her for years now in any way he could think of to no avail. Even her own parents or old friends had no idea where she had gone.

Both of them had become fast friends in the Cornerian Flight Academy years ago where they had attended. He still remembered that day in his first class, Fara had been the only one to smile back when he walked in class on his first day.

Fox looked back to the spot on the top shelf where the picture had been sitting, he probably wouldn't have noticed it at all had one corner not been over the edge.

_Damn, it's almost like I was trying to forget about her. It's been almost three months since I've looked though here. Ever since we put the Great Fox in storage anyways._

Fox gave the picture one last look before leaving his closet. He placed the picture upright on his bedside table and made for the door, it sliding open with a quiet _swish_. Fox walked out into the hallway, the dim white lights mounted on the ceiling barely illuminating the durasteel deck plating and walls. Falco's room was just down the hall, his presence being obvious from the music still blasting through the walls and the yellow light emitting from under the door to Falco's room. Fox walked down the hall to the bird's door. _Swish. _Further down the hall on the opposite side, another door slid open, revealing Peppy Hare in a white bathrobe. Peppy stepped out into the hallway, a steaming cup of coffee in his left hand, towel in his right.

"Heya' Fox, I'm guessin' Falco woke you up too?" Peppy said weakly, bags under his eyes.

"Yeah… We gotta' do something about him, he can't keep doing this…"

Peppy simply nodded as Fox went up to Falco's door, awful mixtape still blaring. Fox pounded his balled fist on the door. No response. Fox pounded his fist again, same result.

"Looks like we gotta do this the hard way…" Fox said with a sigh, wrapping his fingers around a small metal panel on the door and prying it back, the red lever behind it to disengage the magnetic lock holding the door closed in case of an emergency. Fox grabbed the handle and pushed it down with the door immediately breaking its lock with the frame, allowing it to slide freely open. The harsh yellow light inside forced Fox and Peppy to cover their eyes as they walked in. Falco could be seen on the ground slumped up against his bedframe on the floor, completely dozed off despite the music, which Peppy quickly switched off. The silence was metaphorical music to Fox's ears.

"How does he keep managin' to do this?" Peppy groaned, "I swear, one of these days he's gonna drink himself ta' death." He continued, shaking his head and gesturing to the empty beer cans forming a small mountain in the corner of this room. "Dunno how his poor liver hasn't given up yet."

Peppy crouched down to Falco, snapping his fingers in his face in an attempt to wake him up. The bird didn't budge. Peppy placed his hand to Falco's neck, feeling for a pulse. "Well, he ain't dead." The hare grabbed Falco and shook him, "U-uh, huh…" Falco mumbled, "Uh-uh, o-oh…" his eyes slowly opened, allowing him to see Peppy right in his face with Fox standing behind him, arms crossed. A strong sent of alcohol poured out of the bird's mouth as he began to speak.

"Aww fark, did I doze off ta' my music? Again?"

Peppy put his hand on Falco's shoulder, "I'm afraid so. Listen, you can't keep doin' this, Falco; especially when we got a mission comin' up. Come on, ya' knew we had this all planned out."

"Ohhhhh, uh, yeah, yeah, I rememba' something about a data recorder?"

"Well, at least you remember some of it. Can you walk?"

"Uh, y-yeah, I think so." Falco slowly picked himself off the floor, using his bed frame and Peppy for leverage.

"Guess there's no point in trying to sleep anymore…" Fox mumbled, "Guess I'll go up to the bridge then, better check with ROB with where we're at."

Peppy nodded in response, letting a barely awake Falco lean on him. Fox walked out of Falco's room and into the hallway. _Dunno how Slippy sleeps though all this… _A small elevator shaft sat at the end of the hall; There were stairs for whenever the lift decided to stop working, Fox didn't feel like walking though, pressing the small touchpad next to the elevator doors. The two doors parted open, revealing the dimly lit shaft, the elevator itself being little more than a platform with railings patiently waited. Fox stepped on, pressing the small touchpad panel. The lift began to crawl up the shaft, it was _slow_, too slow.

Fox took the time to think back to the nightmare he had with fighting Wolf just two days ago. It unnerved him to no end, the thought of his own death at the paws of Wolf O'Donnell wasn't a topic he wanted to bring up with himself.

_I still don't understand anything; it just doesn't make any sense. We phased out kinetic weapons for ships even before the war after shields got more widespread use. Ballistics just don't have the punch to get through them usually, Wolf's cannon didn't seem to care about_—_no, it's just a dream, I'm overthinking this._

The elevator stopped at its floor at the top of the shaft, doors sliding open. Fox walked out into another hallway that connected the bridge to the rest of the Great Fox. Fox reached the pair of heavyset blast doors separating the bridge from the rest of the ship. Doors like these were present on almost every naval vessel in Lylat, with the bridge being an obvious command center of any ship it was usually a target for boarders. Those doors sometimes being the only thing keeping the bridge crew safe.

Fox used the wall-mounted pawprint scanner, the screen turning green in acceptance of his paw. The doors parted open, sliding smoothly into the walls on their rails. The bridge itself was dark; there was no need to keep the light on with no crew. Only the array of lit computer screens lining the bridge pierced the darkness, glowing a dim blue. The instant Fox walked into the room the lights snapped on, causing him to bring up a paw and shield his eyes from the harsh bridge lights.

"Greetings, Commander McCloud."

ROB's yellow robotic frame could be seen near the front of the bridge against the main window, just ahead of Fox's captain's chair. His purple bar of light for an eye stared back at Fox.

"Oh, hey ROB." Fox said back, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "How are things up here?"

"All ship systems remain nominal, there is nothing to report." ROB droned.

"Good. Pull up a map of Lylat, I wanna see where we are in terms of the mission." Fox commanded. ROB instantly responded, a holographic map of Lylat materializing above a center console. A green delta appeared on the map, showing the Great Fox's position and orientation, indicating the ship in the far reaches of Lylat. Another icon, a blue dot, showing the coordinates that General Pepper had sent them lay ahead of the green delta.

"Our ETA to Pepper's coordinates is approximately four hours and thirty-two minutes, provided we maintain current heading and velocity." ROB commented.

"Well, looks like this won't take too long after all. Sensors pick up anything?" Fox asked the robot again.

"Negative, we currently appear to be, alone. No heat signatures or lidar returns."

_Good, hopefully we'll be left alone for this._

"Thanks ROB, keep me informed, I'll wake up Slippy." Fox said back, walking back towards the elevator.

* * *

The Star Fox team had assembled in the bridge, vast amounts of coffee being the only thing keeping Falco alert.

"I've already gone over this before, but it seems like our feathered friend needs a reminder." Fox said to his team, Falco averting his gaze from Fox to the floor.

"Like I said, this mission's fairly simple." The holograph reassembled itself from the Lyalt map to a 3D image of the Pathfinder with a storm of floating blue pixels. "This is a model of the CNV Pathfinder; a Cornerian exploration ship that went missing out here a few days ago." Fox continued.

"Oh great, another derelict. It's not like nine times outta' ten those things are traps. Nooooo, I'm sure we'll be just fine!" Falco mocked, throwing his hands in the air.

Fox gave the bird a stern look, "I don't like it either, but we're under orders here." Fox kept talking before Falco could complain again, "Anyways, all we need to do is find the ship's data recorder, located somewhere in the bridge." A small green dot appeared in the model of the ship, at the very front of the crew compartment.

"W-why couldn't Pepper just send his own people?" Slippy piped up, the first time he had spoken since they had taken off.

"I asked him exactly that, actually. It seems like he doesn't trust his own men enough to get that recorder. He wasn't too helpful with details, but he kept telling me it was pretty critical that it gets returned." Fox said, answering the toad's question best he could.

"But-but what about the crew? He say anything about them?" Slippy asked again.

"No, nothing…" Fox sighed, "I don't like this, but whatever's on that recorder seems more important to the General then the crew. I'm sorry. If we find any, we'll be sure as hell to bring them back, otherwise, the data's our priority."

_Dammit Pepper, I hope this is all worth as much as you say it is._

"Alert: multiple heat signatures are present nearby. Range to targets is approximately 34,000 kilometers. Lidar readings and IFF tags read signatures as a Thrustodyne model C light corvette. Smaller signatures are most likely fighters." ROB's voice blared across the bridge.

"They see us yet ROB?" Fox yelled across the room to the robot.

"Negative. They have not reacted to our presence. The Great Fox's military-grade emission control systems most likely prevented our early detection."

"Good, looks like we have some time then. ROB, kill our engines, we'll coast at them."

"How do we know they're even hostile, Fox? Anyone could be out here." Peppy asked.

Falco chimed in this time, "Simple; nobody with a hint a' self-respect uses that piece-of-shit Thrustodyne crap. They're pirates, old man." He said with a smirk. "Those old junkas' fell outta' style years ago anyways, itsa' pretty safe bet."

"Falco's right; Thrustodyne ships are pretty crap, being relatively dirt cheap seems to be the only thing goin' for them." Fox added, crossing him arms.

"Well, that settles it. I'll go warm up the Arwings—after Slippy runs some pre flight checks, of course."

* * *

Fox climbed into his Arwing's cockpit using the retractable ladder built into the hull. Slipping the headset on, he keyed his microphone, opening up a channel to his entire team.

"All craft, report. I don't want one of us running outta' fuel halfway through this."

"Slippy's wing is a no-go, looks like it's OS didn't update while we were away. And you know how _long _those goddamn updates take." Peppy said though Fox's headset. "I swear, one of these days those things are gonna get someone killed!"

"Right… Thanks Peppy. How we lookin' Falco?"

"Everythin' seems fine here. I gotta say tho', feels damn good ta' be back in this thing." Falco answered back.

"Agreed…" Fox narrowed his eyes, looking down the launch tunnel, "Alright, let's get this done, team. Get the launch sequence ready ROB." Fox asked the robot.

"Launch sequence initialized, electromagnetic rail catapult charging." The long launch rail on the bottom of the tunnel began to glow, arcs of white electricity jumping down the length of the track. Fox grabbed his Arwing's throttle, putting in a neutral position. A healthy blue glow emitted from his fighter's main engine as the overhead crane maneuvered the three fighters on top of the launch rail, Peppy and Falco doing the same with their own thrusters.

"Hey Foxie." Falco called over the comms, Fox flattening his ears against his skull in response. "I dunno, but somethin' tells me Pepper's gonna do whatever he wants to get that recorda' back. If he's gonna put getting that black box back over his own men; then there's gotta be something juicy in that little box a' his. I say we take a peek in that thing before we decide ta' hand it over."

_He's got a good point, can't say I'm not curious myself._

"You got a good point, but let's get the thing back before we decide what to do with it. What do you think, Peppy?"

"I'm gonna have to agree with Falco on this one, Fox." Hare responded. "I'd like to know what's in it too."

Fox narrowed his eyes; did he disobey Pepper's direct order for the sake of him and his team's curiosity? He made his decision.

"Sorry guys, we got direct orders straight from Pepper. We're short on creds and the last thing we want right now is to get on the good General's bad side. I'd like to take a look too, but I'm not gonna disobey him just for a look." Fox said to his team.

"Awww, you're no fun Foxie." Falco groaned back, "Man, peppa's really got you unda' his thumb these days."

"Falco, you know it's not like that!" Fox shot back. "Dammnit Falco, we just don't have time for arguing right now!"

"Eh, whatevea'." Falco rolled his eyes. The electric whine of the catapult rail filled the hangar; it was ready to launch.

Falco's Arwing was first in line, he punched the throttle forwards as far as it would go. The launch rail's powerful linear induction motors kicked in, the trolley clamped onto the hull of his Arwing, rocketing down the tunnel and flinging the fightercraft into the void.

"Ohhhhhh man! I missed that shit!" Faclo yelled over the comms, with a big grin across his beak. Fox's wing was next in line, the trolley rolling back into position and under his ship. The rail's motors propelling his Arwing up to speed and down the tunnel. His Arwing's G-diffusers prevented him from feeling over six g's of acceleration as Fox's fighter shot out into space after Falco. The bird was flying in a lazy circle around the Great Fox, waiting for the other two pilots to catch up. Fox flew into position adjacent to Falco, having no trouble matching his circular flight pattern. Peppy's Arwing flew out of the launch tunnel moments later, him flying behind the other two pilots in a backwards delta formation. Fox keyed his microphone once his team was in position.

"Alright team, here's the plan; Falco, I want you to hit that corvette hard as soon as we're in range. I'm betting it's got at least one point defense gun so we need it out of the picture." Fox spoke into his headset's microphone.

"Gotcha Foxie. Heh, won't see what hit em'." The avian said back, a rather cruel smile forming on his beak again. He thumbed a small button on his flight stick, transferring a smart bomb from his Arwing's internal magazine into its launcher.

"Peppy, I want you to stick with me. We'll deal with the fighters and back Falco up if he needs—"

"Ha, as if!" Falco cut him off, "I'll be fine Foxie, you just worry about the old man here!"

"Damnit Falco, I'm not that old and you know it!" Peppy shot back through the comm, "Save it for when we're back on the ship!"

"Yeah yeah, fiiiiiiiine. Comeon' Pep; can't ya' take a joke?"

"That's enough, _bird!_" Peppy yelled back again, the comm line struggling to keep up with his yelling.

"Cut the chatter team!" Fox tried cutting in. Falco's laughter could be heard in response, "Okay, fine, fine… Sorry Pep."

_Back to the mission, again…_

"ROB, what can you tell us about this corvette we're heading towards?" Fox asked the robot, "_The Thrustodyne model_ _C light corvette is not registered to any known database. The condition of its hull indicates neglect for basic maintenance and repair. Crew is most likely hostile, proceed with caution, Commander McCloud."_

"This thin' gotta name?" Falco cut in again, "Just so I know what ta' paint on the wing." Falco's Arwing was decorated with a custom "paint job" of black text, greatly conflicting with his Arwing's original white and blue. Each black delta painted on the sides of his main fuselage indicated smaller fighters, while full names of larger capital ships that had fallen prey to Falco's liberal use of smart bombs decorated the wings. Fox hated the bird's defacing of his own teams iconic symbol, but could ultimately do nothing about it. He let it slide anyways; fighting a ship that visibly had _hundreds _of kills was slightly intimidating, Fox thought.

"_The Corvette's IFF tag is registered as the 'Unbroken'."_

"Hahaha! That's gonna be pretty ironic real soon I'd say! Let's go get that box a' Peppers back!" Falco said, punching his throttle lever as far as it would go. His Arwing shot forwards, leaving Peppy and Fox behind. Fox followed him as close as he could, hitting his fighter's afterburner to keep up with the bird, Peppy doing the same behind him. The corvette in the distance seemingly noticed, it's cheap bare-bones sensors finally picking up the Star Fox team from the extra heat their Arwing's afterburners emitted. It's four fighters responded too, leisurely forming up into a vaguely square formation.

* * *

**Lylat system, marauder corvette **_**Unbroken**_

**7 ALW**

* * *

"Captain! Captain! It-it-it's farkin' Star Fox, man!" Someone was yelling through the door, pounding their fist on it as fast and hard as they could. "Shit man! T-they're coming!" More frantic knocking, "P-please man! Wake the hell up!"

Captain Cequil finally woke up, his vulpine ears twitching at the noise. "Aw fark! There're shootin' at us man!" The voice behind his door continued yelling. Cequil picked himself off his stomach, turning

around and sitting up in bed. "Yeah yeah, come in…" He slowly mumbled. The door slid open, a rat running into the room, his shabby repainted Cornerian surplus combat armor having not been washed in months.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" said the Captain firmly, a hint of anger in his voice, "You better have a damn good excuse to wake me up!"

"Boss, I-it's Star Fox! They found us!" The rat yelled, trembling at the thought of being sucked out into space, like the crew of the last ship he had served on.

"So, just by chance, goddamn Star Fox is out here too?"

The entire ship shook, a loud _BANG_ reverberated through the hull. Harsh red emergency lighting flicked on, entirly replacing the usual fluorescent lights of the ship interior. A loud droning klaxon sounded shortly afterwards.

"That can only mean one thing…" Cequil quietly said, genuine fear in his unsteady voice.

Seconds later, another _BANG_ sounded through the walls, a hole in the cheap plassteel wall of the Captain's cabin had formed leading directly into vacuum. Everything not tied down in the room was rapidly sucked to the jagged hole, a mixture of furniture, carpet and clothing piling up and creating a partial airtight seal. The Captain grabbed onto whatever was within reach, his paw finding a pipe along the wall. Almost as quickly as it had

Cequil knew the ragtag 'patchjob' wouldn't hold for long; carpet wasn't known for being ship building material. He backed a far away from the breach as he could, hugging the wall behind where his bed was. The rat that had woken him up beforehand was slumped on the floor, face down. The rat had been hit in the head by something hard; the culprit—a length of pipe was lying next to his body, torn off from the ceiling by the loss of pressure. One end of the pipe was bent, it's jagged edge stained red.

The Captain didn't know who the rat was, or even his name; he always kept and oath to himself to never become attached to any of his crew, seeing them almost as resources rather than actual people. The death of the unknown crewmember didn't bother him.

The mass of debris plugging the hole shifted slightly; it wouldn't hold for much longer. The door that led to the hallway was still closed.

_Damnit, that's the only chance I got at getting outta' here…_

Cequil slowly and quietly crept for the door, almost as if making too much noise would disturb the breach and suck him out into space. His cabin had been on the more lavish side before the ship was hit, his collection of paintings that had previously adorned the walls were now thrown everywhere. Cequil crept by one of the more expensive ones facing up. It was a painting of some famous Venomian solider, its background depicted the brown and black wasteland of Venom behind him, with the Gorilla up front in the foreground wearing a battle-scared set of Venomain combat armor, blank expression across his dirty face.

_Fark, that one was pretty expensive…_

Cequil made it to the door. Pulling a keycard out of the pocket on his leather jacket and swiping in front of the reader.

Nothing.

He tried again, the small LED on the reader turning red again. Cequil frowned, trying his card a third time.

_Work! You cheap piece of shi-_

The door slid open, revealing _nothing _behind it. Instead of the hallway, the door led directly into space. Everything left in his room, along with the Captain, was drawn out into space within seconds by the pressure loss. Cequil tried to scream but found himself unable too as he drifted away from the ship, the whole thing having been split in half. Everything happened fast, almost too fast for the Captain to register. The last thing he saw before the void claimed him, was the nearby white hull of the Great Fox, small engine trails from fighters dancing around it in a dogfight.

* * *

Falco turned his Arwing around and accelerated towards the Unbroken, the ship still mostly intact. A rusty debris field floating around it, a mess of scrap metal, hull plating and equipment that had been blown out into space. Falco prepped another smart bomb, the Arwing's bomb magazine feeding the ammo-thirsty launcher mounted to the bottom of the fighter's fuselage. Falco thumbed a button on his flight stick, letting loose a fresh bomb. The munition sailed through space with its red blinking strobe light, its fuse set for a timed delay to go off a second before impact. The smart bomb detonated in a brilliant flash of light, its small nuclear charge having no issue blasting away the cheap hull of the corvette. Falco was too far away to feel the shockwave from the Unbroken's fusion reactor discharge, splitting the entire ship in two with flash of light, the cockpit canopy tinted itself to prevent the pilot from being blinded by the intense light. The two halves of the ruined ship drifted away, trailing more debris behind them. The edges on each half from where the smart bomb had gone off still glowing a soft orange, contrasting heavily from the darkness of space.

"Heh, neva' get tired of blowin' things up."

Fox, meanwhile, threw his Arwing into a tight loop, his previously tailing opponent shooting under him as the vulpine's fighter peaked at the height of the tight maneuver. His pursuer—now the pursued, pulled into a hard-banked left turn in an attempt to shake Fox. The vulpine had expected exactly this maneuver from his opponent, using his Arwing's superior agility to aim his twin-linked blaster cannons well ahead of his target. His burst of blaster cannon fire connected, slamming into the top of the pirate's fuselage, punching holes in the hull and cockpit canopy and slagging delicate electronics. The fighter's fuel cells burst open from the lack of a fuel pump, violently detonating in a flash of blue light.

"Scratch one fighter." Fox called over his headset.

A faint _pop_ of more fuel cells exploding could be heard, the sound only able to reach Fox by traveling along the tiny particles of ice floating in this area of space. "Make that two!" Peppy said back, excitement in is voice.

"Falco, how's that corvette lookin'?" Fox said again. A bright flash erupted from the general area where the corvette was parked; Falco's first smart bomb had made contact with its hull.

"Thing spilt in two! What I say about old Thrustodyne shit?" Falco said, his shit-eating grin could be seen on the small comm panel on Fox's heads-up display.

"I see you haven't changed a bit." Fox said back as the bird fired off another smart bomb into the corvette's split front half, stripping hull plating and interior systems with a brilliant orange fireball. The shockwave pushing the remains of the small capital ship on a new vector.

"Heh, anotha' one bites the—Oh shit!"

Blaster fire pelted Falco's shields, their capacitors draining down to 50 percent, Falco's aggressor flew over his Arwing, the enemy fighter's yellow engine trails following close behind.

"How the hell we miss this guy?" Falco squawked, not having expected an attack.

"He must have been hiding around the Pathfinder's wreckage, go help him out Peppy!" Fox called out, Falco punching his throttle forward to catch up with the stray fighter. The small starfighter was cobbled together from parts from other ships as far as Fox could tell; it's paintjob being caked in rust and a patchwork of metal decorated its small hull. Its cockpit canopy was completely opaque, none of the team could see who was flying it.

The scrappy fighter pulled into a tight banked turn after it's hit on Falco for another attack run, Falco used his Arwing's afterburner to catch up as fast as he could, G-diffusers working overtime to compensate for the ship's acceleration from a relative standstill.

"You're gonna pay for that cheap shot you jerkwad!" Falco yelled over a public channel, hoping whoever was flying the junker would respond.

"_Cheap shot? Ha! You were a sitting duck, you moron!" _A gruff voice said back, Falco glared.

A third icon popped on Fox's HUD; the pirate fighter. A scarred Snow Monkey's face appeared on it, a wide grin stretched across his mouth, his scars stretching.

"Andrew?"

"_Hehheh, do I really look like that sucka'? Guess it's the fur then… No, I'm not Andrew." _The monkey said, pulling further into his banked turn, Falco and Peppy chasing behind him.

"Well then who the hell are you? Can't paint you on muh' wing if I don't know who I'm killing!"

"_Lrin, Lrin Oikonny. Don't think ahead too much bird; you'll hurt your little brain a' yours!" _Lrin chuckled, diving downwards instead of completing his turn, throwing off Falco's first shots.

"I'm gonna mount ya' head in my room!" Falco shot back, doing his best to follow Lrin though his dive.

"_OH! Looks I've struck a nerve! Catch me if ya' can ya' blue moron!"_

* * *

Lrin pulled up sharply, Falco's Arwing going too fast to follow him through his accent. Peppy had anticipated this, slowing down beforehand and allowing him to maintain a lock for a charged shot with his Arwing's low-speed maneuverability. Peppy knew slowing down would leave him vulnerable if Lrin decided to take a quick shot at him, but he seemed to be occupied from toying with Falco. Peppy released his charged blaster cannon shot, the ball of ionized gas steering towards Lrin's fighter to intercept him at the high of his climb. The monkey had known about the shot, punching a small button in his cockpit. With a faint _puff puff puff,_ a small barrage of cylindrical infrared flares shot out from the very tip of his fighter's wings, each spreading out in different directions in order to fool Peppy's targeting computer.

Peppy frowned at the sight of his charged cannon shot turning off-course and homing onto a flare. The shot missed completely, it shooting off into the void after the false heat source.

"-_This thing aint' an invader 2 old man! That shot a' yours don't work on me!-"_

"No, but it looks just as cheap as that Venomain deathtrap!" Peppy shot back, preparing another charged shot in the hope his computer would do its job this time. "You got a half and half chance of that thin' fallin' apart as us killing ya'!"

Lrin reached the top of his climb, Falco had managed to recover and keep following him but remained further behind, with Peppy still charging a second shot.

"-_Hey! I'll have you know I built this ship myself! Took me years and thousands of creds just ta' find the custom parts!-" _ The monkey roared back, leveling his ship out and then corkscrewing into another dive to line up a shot on Peppy. The hare's eyes went wide as the ship barreled towards him; he yanked the flight stick left in a desperate barrel roll. His Arwing complied, rolling sharply left and out of the line of fire. Blaster cannon fire shot past in Peppy's previous flightpath, followed by Lrin's ship seconds later. Falco flew close behind in hot pursuit, firing wildly at the junky fighter; occasionally skimming Lrin's shield system.

_"-You good Peppy?-"_ Fox asked, genuine worry in his voice. "Yeah, all good here! Let's splash this bastard!" Peppy said, spinning his fighter around and throttling up to follow Falco. Fox took a different angle, hoping to catch Lrin with another attack vector.

* * *

Despite being outnumbered three-to-one, Lrin had proven himself a stubborn target. He had only taken glancing hits from the Star Fox's teams blasters; his shields had been able to shrug off the hits with relative ease. He banked left and fired off more flares to disrupt a charged shot from Fox, his flare magazine could only hold so many of the life-saving countermeasures; he was running out of time. His

normal engagements never lasted this long, here though he was dealing with multiple fighters to mental keep track of, them all capable of wildly different attack angles.

One of the first solid hits came from Falco; he shields taking the majority of the impact and draining their capacitors down to 73 percent from just a single shot.

"HA! You're gonna be flying in a' handcrafted scrapball soon!" The bird taunted.

More fire from McCloud blazed towards him, Lrin pulling a right barrel-roll as the emergency high-power shield the maneuver produced stopping an otherwise crippling shot from making its way down his engine exhaust. He was running out of options and time.

Another shot blazed by his cockpit, the canopy tinting itself in response to the brilliant green light as the shot flew overhead. Lrin dived into another downwards spiral; not knowing where the other three fighters were exactly, so the unpredictable dive down was his best bet he figured. The distant stars danced around his vision as he pushed his ship to its operational limit, threating to kill him through sheer motion sickness alone. He pulled out of his dive, his head spinning from pulling to many gee's. While his custom ship had a pair of g-diffusers salvaged from an old wartime Cornerian Navy fighter, the system had been designed to be mass-produced; resulting in a cheap design that was known to fail after extended use without maintenance.

This fight had easily qualified as heavy use.

Another barrage of blaster fire poured down on him, this time being from _all three_ Arwings; the team had decided to sit back and fire at range. Lrin did his best to evade the stream of blaster fire; the sheer volume of fire making it near-impossible. Lrin's shields slowly were chipped away as he pushed his little fighter to its limits again, darting his ship every way his brain could think of in a desperate attempt to buy himself time.

Another solid shot landed, it finally popping his shield. Lrin gritted his teeth, he had one more idea.

"_-Wait, I-I surrender!-"_

The cannon fire stopped immediately. Fox's voice filled the monkey's cockpit.

"You pirate types don't usually give up like this. Hell, even Andrew didn't surrender when we gave him the chance last time we saw him on Venom." Fox stated, a hint of suspicion in his voice

Lrin _hated _being compared to his cousin, he was in no position to argue, however.

"_-I'm not like him, you already know that. Andrew can't fly worth a damn!-"_

"You have a point, but who's saying you aren't gonna run off? You might have another ship nearby that could give us trouble, after all." Fox asked, very matter-of-factly.

"_-You're right, I could run. Won't get too far with you three lighting up my ass though…-"_

Fox opened a private channel with Peppy and Falco for their input. "What should we do with this guy?"

"Ask im' what he knows, then blast em'simple." Falco said, Fox not being surprised at his answer. He rolled his eyes at the bird's urge to kill, "Peppy?"

"Well, the Great Fox's got a brig afta' all —we might as well use it I'd say. Pepper might pay us extra anyways if we bring im' in alive too; chances are he's got a bounty, being as skilled as he is."

_Ah Peppy; always the voice of reason, compared to Falco._

Fox switched his headset to an open comm channel, "Alright, this is how this is gonna work; you're going to tell us what you guys were doing here, then we'll bring you in"

"_-Guess I don't have much of a choice, do I-?" _Lrin sighed, he hadn't expected any of this. Could he run? No; even if he could outmaneuver Star Fox, they would still whittle him down eventually. Fighting wasn't an option either; yes, he could do some damage, but actually taking down one Arwing, let alone three just wasn't going to happen. Lrin flicked a toggle in his switch in his cockpit to power down his and then shields, the electric _hmmmmm_ of his fighter's power distributor brought a small sense of relief to the monkey; nothing critical in his ship had been overloaded; he might actually have something to go back too if he got out of whatever Conerian prison he was going too.

Lrin keyed his headset's mic, _"Alright, whaddya wanna know?" _He had reached the point of no return; his fate of being jailed was practically sealed.

"First things first; what were you guys doing out here? Not many people hang out around in the outer regions, you guys had've to have had a good reason." The vulpine asked firmly, subtlety adjusting his flight stick to get an attack angle on the monkey.

"_-I'll be honest with ya'; I dunno too much. All I can say is that we got tipped off by someone bout' the Pathfinder's flight route outta' Lylat.-"_

"Wait? Tipped off? By who? Someone in the Cornerian Navy?" Fox yipped, a hint of panic in his voice. _"Shit; if the Navy's got moles, what else could've been leaked? Our mission from Pepper? What the Pathfinder was doing out here? What?"_ The vulpine screamed internally to himself, folding his ears back again.

Lrin chucked, _"-You're surprised? Heh, you know that the Navy's not perfect, you had ta' carry them through the war after all.-"_

Fox balled his fist, _"No, we didn't carry the whole Navy, they're better than that!" _He silently told himself, denying Lrin's statement best he could.

"Moles or not; what were you guys planning with the Pathfinder?" Fox asked, narrowing his eyes at Lrin's fighter in the distance through his canopy, its plain metal fuselage contrasting with the black background of space.

"_-All I know is somethin' about cargo or whatever. Dunno what it was exactly, all the Captain said was that we needed to recover somethin' valuable from the hold.-" _Lrin said back, going over the details in his head. He hadn't bothered to remember much; being interrogated by Fox McCloud himself on the subject was one of the last things he had expected.

"That doesn't make any sense, why would a ship like the Pathfinder be hauling anything valuable? As you put it." Fox asked, inquisitively. A growing feeling of doubt growing inside him; not much of Lrin was saying made much sense.

"_-Sorry, McCloud; That's all I know, I just follow_—_well, followed orders from the late Captain…-"_ The monkey answered back, truthfully. _"-Don't know what they wanted us to snag, or what we were gonna do with it afta'.-"_

Fox sighed; Lrin didn't know too much it seemed. He could easily be lying; it wouldn't be the first time someone like him had spouted bullshit to Fox and his team. Trusting people like him got you killed. "Alright, well, thanks, I guess…" Fox trailed off, not being all that grateful towards the pirate. "Sit tight for a bit."

Fox never heard the monkey's response, nor did he want to. He closed off the open comm channel, then opening a private one with his team. Falco cut in before Fox had time to say anything. "Alright, now that this moron's done talkin', I say we just blast em'. He aint' useful ta' us anymore—well, he wasn't really in the first place, but, uh, you get the point…" Falco squawked.

"Really Falco? You wanna kill someone who's surrendered? Willingly?" Fox gripped his flight stick in frustration, the rubber grip padding deforming under his paws. "You realize wanting to do that makes you no better than Wolf when it comes to getting intel?"

"What's the big deal? You really think that lil' brig of ours is gonna hold him? If he built his own ship, who else knows what he'll do? Hell, he's probably got a grenade or a pistol shoved up his—"

"No! Don't tell me that, Falco!" Fox cut him off just in time. "I don't want that image stuck in my head whenever I look at him… No, Peppy's right; I don't know how much Pepper's paying us, but some extra creds wouldn't hurt. Besides, I'm not gonna execute someone who's willingly surrendered, even this guy."

"Sometimes I think you're getting' too soft, Foxie. But whatevea', your call I guess…" Falco trailed off, disappointment in his voice at Fox's mercy. "I'm telling ya', one day that little sense of mercy is gonna get ya' killed."

Fox rolled his eyes, "Whatever Falco…" He sighed, deciding to change the subject. "Alright, Lrin, power down your weapon hardpoints and shields; Peppy's gonna escort you to the Great Fox. You're going to follow behind him, slowly. You try anything, and I'll let Falco loose on you."

"_-Uh, right, understood.-"_

Fox closed the open comm channel, then opened the private one with his team again, Lrin's portrait on his HUD winking away. "Peppy? Think you can handle him?"

"Ohhhhh yeah, I got that ol' scattergun in my room that's itchin' for some use. He aint' gonna try anything smart with that shotty pointed at im'!"

The vulpine let out a small chuckle, Peppy had bought that antique ballistic shotgun at a gun show on Fortuna years back. Even the guns owner didn't know where he had gotten it from.

Fox saw the small, idle glow of the twin engines from Lrin's ship increase in intensity as the monkey's small fighter accelerated, banked around lazily and headed of the Great Fox. Peppy flew ahead as Fox had ordered, Lrin following him close behind.

"So far so good Fox. I gotta say this guy's been a pretty cooperative so far, it's kinda odd how we're not shootin' at im' anymore." Peppy said as his Arwing disappeared down the launch tunnel, followed behind by Lrin's custom-built fighter.

_Keep an eye on him Peppy, we don't know what he's gonna do…_

"Alright Falco, on me. We're gonna go see what's up with the Pathfinder."

"Yeah, gotcha."

The remaining two Arwings turned away, both preforming a lazy, banked turn to point their noses at the wreckage of the Pathfinder in the distance.

"What you think we're gonna find in there?" Falco asked, his sharp eyes trying to make out details in the ruined Cornerian ship still in the distance.

"I'm not sure, can't be too bad though; it's just an exploration ship, really."

"Right…"

* * *

**AN: Sorry for the long wait, this took too long to write and edit. I know this could be a bit better, but I really wanted to get something out before the end of the month. Updates won't be too frequent; i'm still learning things as I go as you could probably tell.**


	4. Chapter 4

Peppy guided his Arwing towards the idle Great Fox and it's launch tunnel in a relaxed straight line. Lrin's custom fighter was in front of his Arwing's nose, it's weapons and shields powered down as was part of the terms of his unexpected surrender to the team earlier. Peppy used the time with being right behind Lrin's fighter to take a deeper and relaxed look. Now, the hare was no expert when it came to assembling custom ships, but a few exterior parts were recognizable; it's fuselage seemed to be salvaged from an older Venomain Invader II as indicated by the triangular hull and exposed wiring and fuel conduits—they were left uncovered to cut costs when the Invader was still being mass-produced during the war, something that reduced the cheap ship's already short lifespan even more.

The wings appeared to be taken from an older model of Conerian fighter, it's old white paint job still partly intact in some places and faded away in favor of gun mettle gray in others. Two unknown models of blaster cannons were wired up under the wings, heat radiators still glowing a faint orange from the fight before, still dumping excess heat into space.

Peppy silently marveled at the cobbled-together mixture of old and new tech on Lrin's fighter as it entered the Great Fox's tunnel. It could work two ways; it's electromagnetic catapult could be reversed and function as a long brake rail. The rail traveler caught Lrin's ship as it flew through the atmospheric shield holding back the lethal vacuum of the void, slowing down the custom ship and bringing it into the hangar proper. Peppy opened up a private comm channel straight to ROB while he waited for the rail to reset.

"ROB, think you could get those interior turrets online in the hangar?"

"_-Affirmative, directing power to the hangar security sentry turrets…-"_

"Thanks ROB, he'll think twice before trying anything with those guns pointed at im'. Well, theoretically anyways…"

Peppy flew his Arwing into the launch tunnel, the rail traveler catching his fighter and slowing him down into the hangar. Lrin's fighter sat in the spare fighter bay, usually reserved to store the Landmaster assault tank, the hodgepodge custom fighter contrasting greatly with the relatively clean interior of the Great Fox's hangar bay. The monkey still sat in the ship's cockpit; likely waiting for being told what to do.

Peppy shuddered at the sight; _nobody_ was this cooperative, especially pirates. So, the fact that Lrin had so far been completely willing to turn himself in was rather unsettling.

_What the hell is he planning?…_

Peppy popped open his cockpit canopy as the overhead repuslor crane maneuvered his Arwing into it's dedicated vehicle bay. The ladder built into a compartment on the hull opened up and extended down, Peppy undoing his flight harness and stepping down the ladder to the deck. Slippy was nearby the doorway connecting the hangar to the rest of the ship, a small blaster pistol in his hands and with a worried look across his face.

"Uh, hey Peppy… Brought that old gun of yours." Slippy did indeed have the old shotgun in his other hand. He tried to 'be cool' and toss the large gun to Peppy as he walked up, but wasn't exactly able to throw it very far…

"Slippy!" Peppy ran forward, catching the antique firearm before it hit the hard deck plating; an impact that would no doubt have ruined its value and functionally.

"S-sorry…" Slippy croaked weakly, utterly embarrassed at his rather pathetic toss. He looked down at the floor in shame.

Peppy sighed, pitying the toad. "It's fine, just don't… don't try and do that again." He checked the gun for any damage, "No harm done, don't worry bout' it."

Peppy rubbed his hand along the metal of the old weapon, it being cold to the touch. It was an old pump shotgun of unknown make, probably a model made before the age of spaceflight Peppy figured. Its black steel body had a hint of rust in some areas from weathering and heavy use, the grooved slide marked with hundreds of tally marks adding up to a little over 100. Kills? Shots fired? Peppy didn't need to guess very hard, it was pretty clear. The body was marked with some old text, scratched on years ago in some unknown, probably forgotten language.

Peppy racked the slide, chambering a fresh shell. "Huh, you loaded it?"

"Y-yeah, it's pretty simple I guess…"

"Hmm…" Peppy nodded, "Thanks."

Peppy and Slippy walked over to Lrin's ship, the monkey still sitting idle in his fighter's cockpit. His eyes slightly widened at the sight of Peppy's old gun.

"Alright, not-Andrew… climb out of that ship a' yours, and keep your hands where I can see em', or else…" Peppy racked the slide of his gun for dramatic effect, an unfired shell popping out and rolling away. Despite the unneeded gesture, Lrin seemed to get the message clear enough, despite not hearing Peppy though the glass.

Lrin opened the canopy, it sliding forward instead of opening upwards. "Shit, alright old man, just don't blow my leg off with that thing…" The snow monkey climbed out of his cockpit and hopped to the ground, his hands in the air and still eyeing the shotgun.

"Slippy?"

"Oh, uh, right…"

Slippy passed Peppy a pair of handcuffs, the hare walking up and slapping them on Lrin's wrists in a quick, practiced motion.

"Guess I belong to you now, huh?" Lrin said, his tone woven with sarcasm.

_The hell? He was pretty calm a minute ago…_

"Oh quit yer' blabbern'…"

Peppy gestured with his gun to Lrin to follow him. The monkey was in no position to argue, so complying would have to do for now. Peppy marched towards the door, Lrin in the middle and Slippy trailing behind. The monkey glanced back to the toad, Slippy fiddling with his blaster pistol in his hands. The toad noticed Lrin staring and did his best to glare back at him, thumbing a switch on the grip of his pistol.

_Heh, kid keeps the safety on; he ain't taking this too seriously…_

Lrin did his best to play off the glare and rolled his eyes, turning his gaze away; Slippy might have noticed—

"Damn, almost forgot…" Peppy stopped and turned around, looking Lrin right in the eye. "We better search you, don't want any surprises, do we?"

"Really old man? My word not good enough for you?"

"Oh shut up, your word's worth less then sand on Papetoon!" Peppy taunted, "Now, you Andrew wannabe; arms out in front of ya'."

"I told you old man—_OOF"_

Lrin's speech was interrupted by a swift elbow to his stomach.

"You call me old man again, and I'll have ta' have ROB clean your innards off the floor! I only put up with Falco because he's part of the team, you on the other hand…!"

"Fark, Fark, alright…" Lrin wheezed, his cuffed hands on his chest; peppy hand knocked the wind out of him with his surprisingly hard blow, "Alright old—Uh, Peppy…"

"Good… Now, arms forward."

Lrin did as he was told, putting his arms forward with a bored expression across his face.

"Slippy? You wouldn't happen ta' have that scanner on you? The one you usually carry around?"

Slippy fiddled around his toolbelt he usually wore, it being lined with various mechanical wrenches, screwdrivers, as well as a few electronic tools for any sort of repair work one could imagine. Peppy had no idea how the toad kept track of what he had on his belt.

"Oh, here it is."

The toad pulled a gray box from behind his back and handed to Peppy, it fitting rather well in his hands. It resembled a smaller laptop with its screen folded inwards and a few collapsible antennas.

"Alright, let's see if I remember how ta' use this thing…"

Peppy folded open the block screen, the device powering on as he did so, the screen flickering to life and a loading bar appearing.

"What's this thing called again Slippy?"

"Uh, M-molecular wavelength scanner… It's an older model, but it still checks out."

"Ah, I remember now."

Peppy thought back to whenever he used it last, the scanner could 'see into' solid matter itself up close, allowing the user to find something hidden within. Namely internal cracks and cavities deep within structures and equipment. Peppy pulled out the antenna to its full length and walked up to Lrin, the monkey still standing idle.

"Seems like a ton of effort just to search me and all… Even the Conerinan Navy just did the ol' pat me down…"

"Nah, I disagree. If it means I don't have ta' touch you, plus there's no way in hell I'm gonna do a, well… Deeper search…"

The monkey snickered. _Heh_,_ even the most green of Cornerian grunts know to do full body pat-downs… But peppy here…_

Lrin rolled his eyes again as Peppy waved the device over the monkey, Peppy watching the screen of the scanner and looking ridiculous while walking around. From the hare's point of view, the device projected a green, pixelized overlay over Lrin's body, anything made of a metal would stand out like a sore thumb, appearing as an entirely different color as Peppy had tuned it.

"Hmm, I'm surprised; usually jerks like you have at least three different knifes stashed somewhere. Haven't found any on you…" Peppy commented, still walking around Lrin for the second time. The monkey's old Venomian flight suit was completely void of metal weapons as far as the scanner was concerned.

"You almost done with that stupid thing? It's making my fur stand on end here…"

"Not quite…" Peppy turned his gaze to Slippy, the toad fiddling with one of his various wrenches. "Slippy? Can this thing look for those new composites? The types that slip past the detectors a few years back at one of the labs on Corneria?"

"The one with those Venomian remnant guys trying to steal antimatter? They got their guns past the scanners because of those new materials?"

Peppy nodded, thinking back to the incident. One of the Navy's private contractors had set up a lab on Corneria to try and manufacture antimatter via a giant, expensive particle accelerator. Word leaked what the lab was attempting to make, and with antimatter being unfathomably expensive and dangerous, it seemed almost guaranteed that someone desperate might hit the lab. Officially, the raid on the lab ultimately failed with the Venomian remnant's men being killed or captured. Peppy wasn't entirely sure if the story was to be believed though.

"Sorry Peppy, I'd have to update the software for that; it was a gift from my dad before the war, before those new composites were even around so the scanner wouldn't know what to look for."

Peppy rubbed his chin, still looking at Lrin, "I see…"

"Well? You done with that thing?" Lrin asked again, still bored.

"Yeah, I guess so…" Peppy powered down the device and handed it back to the toad. "Well, looks like you're, uh, clean…" He sneered back at the monkey, narrowing his eyes into a glare.

"Alright smartass, walk."

Peppy gestured with his shotgun for Lrin to follow him, still glaring best he could.

"Guess I don't have much a choice, do I?"

"Will you just shut up already?"

Lrin gave a mocking smirk, following the hare to the hangar's door that connected into the rest of the ship. The trio walked along the hallway to the elevator shaft, Lrin glancing around at the walls of the hall; he was almost surprised at the patches of rust, exposed wires along the ceiling and the occasional missing wall panel, exposing thick insulated power conduits that most like connected to the Great Fox's primary reactor.

_Hmm, for being paid by the general himself, you guys don't seem too good at taking care of this place, missing panels and all…_

An idea silently formed in his head, a small smile forming on Lrin's face as the three reached the elevator at the far end of the hall, the platform already waiting for them.

"Ladies first…" Peppy sneered, giving Lrin a small shove forward. The monkey rolled his eyes and walked onto the platform, leaning on the railing. Peppy and Slippy walked on board behind him, the rabbit pressing the touchpad mounted to the railing to command the elevator to go down a floor. It did as it was told, crawling slowly down the shaft. Lrin eyed the service ladder mounted to the side of the shaft, the gears in his mind turning.

_Yeah, that'll work…_

"Slippy, why is this damn thing so slow?"

"I-I don't know, software might be old I guess…"

"Should of painted it red…" Lrin chimed in with his attempt of a joke, but it flew right over the toad's head. Or If it didn't, Slippy decided not to react.

The elevator platform grinded to a halt in the middle of the shaft, sparks emitting from the rails. Slippy groaned.

"Oh… Not again… I thought I fixed this a week ago…"

"Hey, at least Falco isn't here; he'd be teasing you for hours about this!"

"Yeah, good point."

* * *

"How's it look from your end Falco?"

"Well, I'd say the ship's FUBAR from ere'."

Fox flew his Arwing along the right side of the shattered Pathfinder, taking it slow with his flightpath.

"Damn, this thing got hit pretty hard…" Fox briefly thought of the crew, but immediately put his feelings away; nothing he could do about it now, or ever.

_Focus Fox…_

Falco's Arwing appeared in front of him, the bird having flown over the wreck after he finished checking the left side of the ship.

"Find anywhere we can land over there? The hangar's sealed from this side, looks like it collapsed."

"Yeah, otha' side's kinda open, but don't expect any atmo' though." Falco remarked rather casually, scratching the back of his head around his headset.

"Well, unless we borrow one of Slippy's cutting torches, that might be our best option then."

Falco mumbled something in acknowledgement, throttling forwards to do another loop around the Pathfinder for a second look. Fox opened up a comm channel to the Great Fox in the meantime to report the news back to the other two, placing his Arwing in a static position next to the wreck. Fox keyed his headset, connecting straight to Peppy.

"Peppy, we've found an access point in the hangar on the Pathfinder, we'll be on our way back in a bit."

"_-Good work Fox, we're stuck in the elevator with… Uh, what's his name again…-" _A short pause, Fox assumed he was asking the monkey, even Fox had forgotten at the moment as well.

"_-Uh, right… Lrin… Anyways, you finish up out there; don't want our heat sig's attracting anybody else out here…-"_

"Roger that Peppy, Fox out."

Fox killed the channel, but before he could really do anything Falco's voice broke the few seconds of silence.

"Hey Fox, uh, something's kinda strange here… You wanna take a look at this?"

"Yeah, on the way."

Fox pushed his throttle forwards, giding his Arwing slowly around and above the wreckage, small bits of scrap and other various bit of debris bumping off the Arwing's shields. The vulpine took another glimpse at the side of the ruined ship.

_What did all this? More pirates? The corvette from earlier didn't look like it carried enough heavy ordinance to bring down a Navy ship…_

Fox reached Falco's Arwing near the rear of the Pathfinder, the bird having put his fighter in a static position near the six large cylindrical fuel tanks that once supplied the Pathfinder's main engines. One of the fuel tanks had been split down the middle, as if someone had taken a giant zipper and undid it halfway.

"Alright Falco, what did you say I need to see?" Fox asked, not finding anything unusual; wrecks and derelicts were hardly new to him.

"This big ol' fuel tank, it's been split open."

"So? That's not exactly unusual for a wreck, Falco."

"Well duh…" Falco rolled his eyes. "Alright, but what did it?"

Fox took a glance at the split fuel tank through his canopy, looking up and down it's full length._ Not seeing anything odd here… _He narrowed his eyes along the jagged metal, and then it hit him. A black piece of material, roughly triangular in shape, was embedded at the far edge of the fuel tank. Fox moved his Arwing closer, using the reaction control thrusters his fighter was equipped with for minor adjustments. The object seemed to almost absorb Lylus's faint sunlight, producing a bizarre effect of the object being unable to be illuminated.

"See what I mean? Can't say I've seen anything like _that before…_"

"Yeah…" Fox continued to peer at the object, but couldn't make out much detail from the fact that the thing absorbed light. He shook his head, pulling himself out of the intense staring contest with the object.

"ROB might know more about this…" Fox opened a channel to the robot, talking before ROB could ask what he needed, like he always seemed to.

"Hey ROB, you know anything about this thing we're looking at?" After a few seconds, the robot had an answer.

"_-I would require a deeper and closer analysis to provide conclusive data. However, from visual scans alone, the object appears to absorb roughly 80% of all light projected upon it. Retrieving a physical sample of the material in question will provide more absolute results.-"_

"Thanks ROB, we're on our way back." Fox let out a sigh after the channel disconnected.

"You alright, foxey?" Falco asked, having heard Fox.

"Yeah, I just don't what to make of all this…"

"Heh, you could say that again!"

* * *

**Lylat outer rim, Cornerian Navy shuttle**

* * *

"Lieutenant, fuel check."

The female vulpine tapped the small electronic counter in the shuttle's cockpit; it had stopped registering the ship's fuel reserves a few hours ago. The numbers didn't respond to her paw tapping the counter's frame.

"Damn thing still isn't saying anything new, still stuck at quarter-full, sir."

"So, we have no idea how long we'll last out here?"

"Yeah…"

Captain Richard shook his head, letting out a long sigh. The shuttle had been cruising along for what had felt like days now, it's small thrusters not being designed for long excursions through deep space. He took a bite out of the energy bar he found in a crate abord the shuttle's cargo/troop bay, the dry fruity flavor being rather bland for his taste as he swallowed another chunk of the bar. He took a reluctant breath through his nose, the repulsive musk of the shuttle's recycled air pouring into his nostrils. The filter had probably clogged up, or just broke entirely.

_Just another thing to worry about, better check for a connection before that system shuts down too..._

Richard turned his head to the cockpit, Nora leaning back in the pilot seat almost half-asleep. If these were normal circumstances she'd be appropriately reprimanded for being almost asleep at the wheel, but the two were out of options and creating a potential argument between the two wouldn't solve anything.

"Anything on radar? Or comms?"

"Checking…"

Richard could hear Nora fiddling with something in the cockpit for a minute or two, a quiet swear being muttered after the console beeped back at her, failing to find anything of note.

"No..." Nora sighed from the cockpit. "Nothing..."

_Looks like we're still drifting then... in no direction ...without a real plan..._

_Shit..._

As if she heard his inner thoughts, Nora's voice piped in from the cockpit.

"Sir... I-I think I might have an idea. It's not exactly... conventional, but it might be our only chance here."

Richard reached up to the top of the troop bay, pulling himself out of his jump seat with a handle on the ceiling. He walked into the small cockpit, poking his head in.

"I'm listening."

Nora leaned back in the pilot's chair, the seat's cushion conforming to her new posture. "Well... If I'm right... Port Arknez's orbit is out here somewhere... If we can pick up it's signal, we could try and head there..." The fox looked out the canopy into the black, almost to try and spot the port with her eyes alone. "But that's banking on the fact the the port's even around here, in it's orbit."

"Port Arknez, huh?" Richard rubbed the fur under his muzzle, letting out a sigh. Nora could still smell the dry fruit bar from before in his breath. "Well... Not my first—or any Cornerian's first choice of port, but..." He shook his head slightly, closing his eyes briefly in frustration. "We don't have any other options, do we?"

Nora gave a slight nod, worry plastered across her expression. "No, Arknez is the closest settlement with an orbit this far out, sir. Unless there's a ship nearby, that port's our best bet." She stared down at the floor, then to the cockpit's instrument panel; specifically the malfunctioning fuel indicator. "If we miss the rendezvous... We're dead..."

Richard nodded somberly; realistically, the shuttle had no hope of catching up to the port should they miss the meetup. They certainly didn't have enough supplies to wait out another full orbit from Arknez; the station was far out enough that a complete orbital cycle took months for a full rotation around Lylus.

"Well... Looks like we're waiting for that signal then..."

* * *

The Star Fox team's small shuttle flew along, closing the distance between the idle Great Fox and the wreckage of the former Pathfinder. Fox sat in the two-man cockpit, gripping the joystick and throttle loosely in his gloved paws, only making slight adjustments to the shuttle's flightpath. Behind Fox, in the shuttle's tiny passenger bay sat Falco, the bird checking his blaster rifle for the umpteenth time.

"Oh man, glad I got this new model here..." The bird mumbled to nobody but himself, trying to justify the purchase of the gun.

"How much did that cost us again?"

"Eh... Bout' 30k in creds'..."

_Damnit Falco..._

"You know that's almost one full month of pay, right? For our smaller jobs?" Fox shot back from the cockpit, shaking his head and exhaling in frustration.

"Yeah yeah yeah..." The bird rolled his eyes. "Thermal optics don't come cheap... Besides..." He patted the larger-bore tube mounted under the barrel. "We run inta' anything nasty, I got a little somethin' special for em'..." Falco darkly chuckled, loading a large 40 millimeter grenade into the rear end of the tube and sliding it back into place.

"Alright, well, you know what happened last time you got some explosives..." Fox taunted, tilting his head to look back at the bird who rolled his eyes again back in return.

Fox turned his attention back to piloting, banking the ship slightly left to pull up alongside the wreckage where Falco had found the remains of the Pathfinder's hangar. The hole they planned to use was just big enough to fly the shuttle through at the cost of the paint job. "Alright, check your suit seals; we don't wanna suffocate if the shuttle gets breached out here."

Falco nodded, pulling up his left arm clad with the armored pressure suit rated for vacuum. The suit consisted of a flexible form-fitting undersuit with lightweight composite armor plates covering vital areas of whoever was wearing it, the plates would stop small-arms well enough, but it was hardly military-grade in other aspects. The helmet was nearly all glass, good for visibility, but if it cracked... The wrist had a small computer terminal; little more then what Fox would find on his smartphone. He waited a few seconds after tapping the screen, followed by a small _beep_.

"Nope, looks like I won't die..." He mumbled, slipping the helmet over his head and giving it a slight twist to lock it into place.

Fox did the same, making sure his furry ears fit into the helmet properly; getting them flattened against his head for long periods of time would be uncomfortable. He tapped the side of his helmet, indicating for a comms check between the two. Falco's voice came through moments later.

"Man, I forgot how stuffy this thing is!"

"Well, we could've bought better suits if you hadn't blown 30k on that gun of yours..."

"Hey!" Falco shot back, voice slightly muffled. "Thing things' gonna save our asses! You just watch!"

Fox sighed. "I look forward to it." He mocked, grabbing his own blaster carbine and checking the power cell. Satisfied with the level of charge, he nodded and slid the cell back in.

"Alright, hold on; we're going to have to push through to get inside."

"Heh, just don't wake up whatever's here..."

Fox decided to ignore the comment, spinning the shuttle in-place with the reaction control system and inched the throttle forward. The shuttle creeped forward, approaching the opening in the hangar. With a jolt, the ship impacted the edges of the hole, parting metal and chipping off paint as Fox opened up with more thrust-It was just enough to push through into the Pathfinder's hangar.

"Hey, uh, Fox? Are those bodies?" Falco asked, pointing his gloved finger at the shuttle's canopy.

"Yeah... Looks like it..." The vulpine gritted his teeth, taking in the sights of the hangar's gravity-less interior. The sight of the dead wasn't something he wasn't used to seeing, but something about this time felt _off. _Two things stood, or _floated_ out to him; some of the corpses were clearly Navy personal, while others were clad in blood-red combat armor, all in various states of damage.

"Looks like some boarding action..." Fox mumbled, trying to think of any pirate group that had the resources and manpower to stage an attack on a Navy ship; few did, and even fewer could actually pull it off.

Falco, now having joined Fox in the cockpit, pointed to a large object floating among the pirates. "There, big grenade launcher, whole bunch a' spent cells. Looks like they met some resistance from the crew."

The shuttled touched down on the deck, a metallic _thud_ of metal-on-metal could be heard reverberating in the small ship's interior.

"Okay, remember; we head up to the bridge, pull the drive and get out. I don't want you running off and looting things again. Anything else is secondary."

Falco smirked behind his helmet. "Yeah... sure thing, Foxy."

Fox ignored him again, walking over to a small touchpad mounted on the wall by the shuttle's door; it was too small to have a proper airlock. "Okay, I'm venting the shuttle." He pressed a single button on the pad, bringing up a confirmation prompt. Fox hesitated for a moment, but pressed "Vent" anyways. A second later, with the rush of air the shuttle vented the interior's pressure, letting in the unforgiving vacuum from outside to equalize the pressure of the shuttle's interior and the outside hangar, or lack thereof. Fox grabbed a latch on the shuttle's rear door, sliding it into position upwards to break the seal. The only sounds being produced being a dull _thunk._ He turned to Falco one last time.

"You ready?"

"Yeah..." He checked his rifle one last time. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's get Pepper's little box back."

Fox nodded, slinging his own carbine over his back and placing both paws on the door. The zero-g environment allowed Fox to simply slide it open without the door being powered. The armored vulpine shouldered his carbine and stepped into the hangar, magnetic boots activating to prevent him from floating away towards something hazardous. Lylus's blue light beamed in through the tears in the wall of the hangar, providing partial illumination of the area with blue sun shafts. It would be enough in the hangar in terms of light, but Fox doubted they'd last deeper into the ship. He panned his view across the carnage that took place however many hours ago, still the same eerie sight from the shuttle. Falco followed behind him, pointing his large rifle around the hangar; almost as if the bird was eager to shoot something.

"I'll take point, we'll head for that door." Fox said, pointing to a doorway on one end of the hangar, it being elevated off the deck connecting to a trussed platform.

"Gotcha; they'll kill you first, and then I run back to the shuttle, sounds like a plan."

Fox rolled his eyes, beginning to walk across the hangar. Only the two's footsteps could be heard, it being nothing more then a muffled _clunk clunk clunk _of their boots touching down on the deck with each step.

_Better check in with Peppy..._

Fox brought up his wristpad, tapping through it to reach a menu for the suit's close range radio transmitter. He tapped it once more, connecting to the Great Fox.

"Peppy, Fox here; we've landed in the hangar without any issues. We're going to head deeper into the wreck." Fox wasn't sure how long the connection to the Great Fox would last; the hull might block the relatively weak signal once they were deeper into the ship. After a few seconds, Peppy's voice came through, the connection was solid for the moment.

"_-Good work so far, Fox. We got Lrin secured in the brig in the meantime, bounty should give us some extra creds' when we get back.-"_

Fox smirked; the more money the better for the team, it'd help pay off Falco's fancy gun, too.

"_-How's the ship look from the inside? Any systems still runnin'?-" _The hare asked, genuinely curious. Part of it was concern for Fox's safety, but it wasn't like the situation was safe to begin with.

"Hangar's still intact for the most part, at least the interior. Looks like the ship was boarded at some point, crew fought back. Pretty messy in here." Fox took another glance upwards at the zero-g carnage before his conscious forced him to look away. He gritted his teeth, pressing onward to the door. Falco brought up the rear, still scanning the silence with his rifle. Fox hoped the length wouldn't hinder moving it around in tight, ship corridors.

_Knowing our luck though..._

"_-Yeah... Should've expected pirates, especially out here._ _Still doesn't explain that thing wedged in the fuel tank though.-"_

Fox thought back to earlier, finding the black sheet of whatever, it was still outside. "Yeah..." He mumbled, the single word being all he could get out as the image of the object still stained his memory, almost like it was drawing him in. He considered holding the mission for a moment, just to take a closer look in pers—"Fox? You okay?" Falco's voice snapped Fox out of his trance, he stared back at the bird idly.

"Uh..." Fox shook his best he could, the helmet hindering his efforts. "Yeah, just distracted." He gave a quick nod. "Yep, just distracted." The thought from before threatened to reemerge, Fox had to put in conscious effort to keep it at bay.

"Yeah, uh, no." Falco didn't buy it. "'Distracted' doesn't usually cause that glazed look you gave me for a solid minute." He shook his head, pointing at him.

"Alright, that thing we found outside- it's almost like the thought of it is trying to force it's way inside my head, like those songs you just can't get out of your head." Fox briefly looked back to the shuttle , then back to his friend. "It's worse then that though, almost like it _wants _me to remember."

"Well, can't say I've seen a shipwreck do THAT before. Let's keep movin' though, might make ya' think about somethin' else."

"Yeah..." Fox took a deep breath. "Good point."

The two advanced across the hangar, walking up the stairs to the platform that connected to the doorway; it was already open. Fox had a flashlight mounted on his carbine, turning it on and shining the white beam down the hallway beyond. Bits of debris and dust particles floated around the dark corridor ahead, ruined piping and power conduit once mounted to the ceiling having become disconnected and now providing more junk to walk around.

"Watch the pipes here..." Fox mumbled, the two slowly advancing down the hallway. Sunlight had no hope of getting though this deep into the ship, the only lights coming from dim glowing fibers on the edges of the hall, intended to mark the emergency exit should the power go out.

"That thermal scope of yours work? Or did the sketchy website you buy it off scam you again?" Fox asked, remembering the fancy-looking scope on top of Falco's rifle.

"You betcha' it works!" Falco shot back, still trying to justify his purchase. "Scope was worth 20k just by itself! Even the army don't spend this much on—"

"...Thanks, I think I get it..." Fox cut in, silently wished his friend would just shut up for 10 minutes. "Just... Just use it please, down the hall..." Fox pointed into the darkness ahead down the corridor, further then their rifle flashlights could cleave away the dark. Better vacuum suits had thermals built into the helmet, but with the price tag on the bird's gun...

Falco raised his large rifle, pointing it down the shadowy corridor. A small switch built into the side of the optic, which the blue avian happily flicked on. "Alright... let's see what this spooky ship has on offer..." The bird angled his head to look down the optic, the device casting the entire hallway in Falco's narrow line of sight in a murky, pixelated gray. Anything the was even remotely giving off heat would glow bright-white in the scope. Falco swept the large rifle's aim around down the hallway, narrowing his already good avian eyesight for a better look.

"No..." Falco trailed off. "Got nothin'. Either we're alone, or this thing's busted."

"Let's just hope it's us, then..."

Falco kept his scope's image in his peripheral vision; anything hot would be instantly clear in the optic. The two teammates advanced forward, still scanning with flashlights. The ship was completely silent, apart from the steady and quiet _thump-thump-thump _of the two's magnetic boots impacting the floor. Fox's flashlight panned over more floating debris in the form of supply crates drifted about in the hallway ahead; each labeled with what they supposedly held within.

"...These shouldn't be here..." Fox commented, walking to the right side of the hallway to get around the obstacles. While bumping into one wouldn't be a problem, he still rather wouldn't take the chance of puncturing his suit. "If the schematic Pepper gave us is right, the cargo bay is two decks down."

"So? We keep our stuff in in crates all around the Great Fox, not exactly uncommon..."

"Yeah..." Fox slowly pushed a small ammunition crate away with a gloved paw, the army-green box floating up and out of the way. "...Think about it though; we're hardly professionals, we don't have any real restrictions or military regulations to follow, these guys do. They can't exactly leave stuff out of place, especially in the hall. .." Fox pushed away another crate, it being labeled_ 'Type-8 thermobaric charges', _along with information on how to safely store them.

Fox raised a furry eyebrow, looking at the box. "Alright, riddle me this, Falco; why is an 'exploration' ship carrying these? Explosives?"

Falco shined his light on the floating munitions, taking particular interest in a large crate labeled, 'M-119 Portable Infantry auto-mortar system'. A small smile formed on his beak at the sight of the thing and he briefly considered the damage he could do with the thing, but he kept the thought of the boxed weapon in the back of his mind for the time being.

"I dunno... Where was this thing headed to again?"

"The _Vega_ System, closest Star to Lylat. Guess they found something habitable there to settle."

Falco shook his head. "Yeah... Still don't explain all this lovely firepower they were packin', Less' they were expectin' trouble."

Fox simply grunted in acknowledgment, and continued to push away another gunmetal-gray munitions crate and advanced further down the hallway. Falco took one more good look at the crates for anything else he'd want to snag on their way out. There were a few boxes of blaster powercells, but nothing as significant as the mortar. He still needed a way to convince Fox to even take the thing, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Falco caught up to Fox, sticking to the right and slightly behind the vulpine. Just as before, the hallway stretched into the dark ahead, and the bird's optic had found nothing ahead. Fox had kept himself focused forwards and ahead, only panning his carbine's light left and right at the occasional doorway-open or otherwise, along the sides of the hallway. Falco would check behind every few seconds, almost as if he knew that something would be following them. The scope however, had yet to find anything.

"Man, this is getting' reaaaaaal creepy..." Falco mumbled, the fact that they had heard or seen _nothing _was beginning to become unsettling. "Usually we'd be shot at by now, but this is just... Nothin'."

"Not going to lie, I'm gonna have to agree with you on that. But at the same time, you want to get shot at?" Fox teased.

Falco rolled his eyes. "No... I'd just like to actually know what we're dealin' with here... Not just silence."

"...Yeah..."

Fox stopped in his tracks, his light shining straight on a heavy bulkhead door blocking the path to the bridge, it having been closed automatically from the ship's internal sensors back when they had power. Fox panned his light over the metal, looking for any way it could be opened manually. Nothing stood out, no manual release latch or lever, just flat durasteel painted red with white caution stripes along the bottom.

"Odd..."

"Huh?"

"These doors always have manual releases, gives anyone trapped on one end a way to get it open. This one doesn't have anything like that."

"So... Anyone trapped by this thing is screwed?"

"...Yeah... Looks like we're going to have and find a way around, no way we're getting this open without one of Slippy's plasma cutters." Fox brought up his suit's wristpad, tapping on the keyboard to try and connect to the Great Fox; the Pathfinder's schematics wouldn't download to the suit's computer, so contacting the ship was the only reasonable way of finding a way around the bulkhead.

"Peppy, Fox here; we've ran into a bulkhead that's sealed on the main corridor. We're going to need a way around."

Fox waited a few seconds for the rabbit to respond; the hull of the wreck would most likely interfere with his suit's short-ranger transmitter and antenna. Although the signal quality was spotty, Fox could still partially make out Peppy's voice.

"_-I'll p-ll up the ship -matics here... One sec...-"_

"Connection's pretty spotty Peppy, just a heads-up"

"_-Rodg- that F-"_

* * *

Peppy jogged down the hallway to the bridge of the Great Fox; he wasn't in a huge hurry, but he'd prefer getting Fox on his way around the bulkhead sooner then later. Him and Slippy had finally gotten the elevator moving and locked up Lrin down in the brig a few decks below, he knew that Slippy would be a terrible guard so they both elected for ROB to keep an eye on the monkey through the ship's cameras remotely; it wasn't like keeping eye on someone in a locked room would be difficult for the robot anyways. Lrin probably wouldn't get too far even if he managed to escape his cell, anyways.

Peppy reached the bridge, slowing down his jog. Through the front window, in the distance, sat the wreck of the Pathfinder only 10 kilometers away. It would be fairly hard to spot with just the eyes at this distance; only a holographic projection on the front window centered around the small, distant shape told Peppy where the ship even was. Hare approached the holographic display table in the center of the room, it powering back on as he walked up to the device.

"Alright... let's see here..." Peppy mumbled to himself as the table automatically brought up the Pathfinder's internal ship schematics from where he had left off, before Fox and Falco had departed. Peppy brought up his communicator; he'd need more details from Fox about the two's current position.

"Okay Fox, I'm lookin' at the schematics here... Your're in the main hall, connecting to the hangar, right?"

"_-Y-"_

"Say again?" Peppy sighed; without a reliable form of communication between Fox and the Ship, things would only take longer.

"-_Yeah, we're in t-e main h-"_

_Eh, good enough..._

Peppy glanced at the three-dimensional projected image floating above the table, only showing the exterior of the ship of when it was operational; he'd need an internal view. "One moment here..." Peppy said back, flipping through the different layers of schematics using a keyboard on the holo-table.

_Electrical systems... Plumbing... Ventilation... Point-defense turrets... Ah!_

Peppy flicked to a tab on small selection screen next to the keyboard labeled 'Access corridor layout' He pressed enter, the holographic image almost immediately changing fore and color. An incredibly faint and transparent blue took over the color of the hull and exterior, while green shapes inside the image popped up; hallways. From here, Peppy was able to easily spot the hallway the two were in after tracing it back to the hangar.

"Okay Fox, I've figured out your current position."

* * *

Peppy's comments were spotty in terms of signal quality, but Fox was able to mentally piece together what he was saying. Falco meanwhile, was just leaning against the wall, bored. He checked his equipment just to pass the time, pulling out a spare power cell for his rifle and looking it over. Just as he had brought it along, the cell was in perfect working order.

"Good, think you can find a bulkhead door? One leading to the bridge?" Fox asked, in response to what Peppy said.

"_-Hold on... -eah, I got a door marked on the m-p...-" _A few moments passed by, Fox glanced over at his friend across the metal hallway, Falco tapping a gloved hand on his gun while looking down to the floor, thinking about something that probably wasn't the mission to occupy himself.

"_-Al-ight, I g-t somethin' here... Falco ain't go-na like it, though...-"_

Fox lowered his tone of voice; if Peppy said that Falco wouldn't like it, he _really_ wouldn't like it.

"What you got for us, then?

Peppy sighed over the radio. _"-Only w-y I can fin- is through th- ship's ventilation syst-m...-"_

Fox groaned under his breath; he'd been inside vents before, they were always cramped and an absolute pain in the tail to crawl through. He'd heard stories of other mercs' getting stuck in the fun houses of air ducts that some of the old orbital colonies had, with some never getting out.

"That the best you can do?"

"_-I'm afraid so, F-x. That d-or is the only -ay to the bridge, minus the v-nts, of course.-"_

"Damn..." he sighed. "Okay, thanks Peppy..." Fox mumbled, killing the connection back to the Great Fox. Reluctantly, he relayed the news to his friend.

"Hey, Falco."

The bird perked up his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Peppy found us a way through to the bridge... Problem is, we're gonna need to head through the vents."

"You gotta me shittin' me!"


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh man, this—_OOF_!" Falco's helmet bumped a low pipe mounted on the ceiling of the vent, it producing a dull _Thud _from the lack of atmosphere in the 'air' vent.

"Uh, as I was sayin', this sucks..."

"Not gonna argue on that." Fox groaned while trying to propel himself forwards through the vent; it was just barely big enough to fit him while laying down, and then just barely. Fox forced the thought of his adversary away, grabbing another pipe; one of many that were welded to the sides of the vent. He pulled himself forward, the lack of gravity being only so helpful here in the tiny space.

"How much further? I'm already getting' sick of these things!"

Fox angled his gaze straight ahead-or upwards, relative to the Vulpine, and peered down the inky darkness of the vent. He had taken the flashlight off his carbine's tactical rail before climbing into the claustrophobic ducts; not like he'd be able to aim his gun with any degree of accuracy, anyways. Only his pistol's small size allowed him any amount of reliable firepower in here. Falco dragged his large battle rifle on it's sling over his back, the long barrel catching on every little bit of metal that protruded from the walls of the vent. Fox's light cleared always the darkness best it could, reveling a slightly larger chamber just up ahead; it was the larger, central ventilation duct that ran the entire length of the ship, even down to the engines a good 250 meters back.

"Almost..." Fox pulled himself forward with a grunt. "...There."

After a good few minutes of crawl-floating through the vent, Fox climbed into the larger main vent. It still wasn't tall enough to stand in, but a walkway made from a stiff metal mesh lay bolted to the floor; but at least this was somewhere that somebody was expected to come through at some point, back when the ship was operational. Fox had to hunch in the main vent, but it still marginally more room to maneuver then the tiny one.

Fox had expected Falco to climb out right behind him, but instead, his long battle rifle came through first. It floated out of the vent barrel-first, floating across the main vent and bumping into the wall.

"Damn thing's too big for this place..." Falco complained, pulling himself though and hunching down next to Fox while scooping up his rifle.

Fox knew better then to ask about Falco's gun and why he brought the thing aboard; having a heated argument over firearms and which ones were practical again with his friend wasn't exactly what Fox would call productive. Fox decided to keep his focus on the mission for the time being, hopefully Falco would do the same.

"Alright, if the vent's intact, it should run perpendicular to the hallway." Fox said pointing to the right down the cramped corridor, recalling what Peppy had told the two before they entered the vent. The hull was thicker deeper in the wreck; Fox's relatively weak suit radio and antenna couldn't pick up anything from the Great Fox at this point.

"Well, we betta' get movin' then."

Fox nodded back, and the two began crouch-walking down the dark, main vent. Large pipes on welded to the walls flanked the two Star Fox members on either side with dead power conduits and wires hung from the ceiling. The wreck itself remained utterly silent still, with only the two's footsteps on the mesh walkway and Fox's steady breathing being the only noises that could be heard.

The walk down the hallway was uneventful, with the two repeating the same method of Falco watching more behind with Fox taking position up front. Fox panned his light around, looking for a smaller access vent along the right wall. His shined upon what he was looking for; a metal grate along the right wall, just as Peppy had said before the two climbed into the vents. The bright rifle flashlight bathed the metal grate in light, illuminating the block letters above.

_BRGE VNT No. 3b_

"Okay, this should be it, here." Fox pointed, Falco groaned in response.

"We goin' though that little thing? Again?"

Fox rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and unless you think that under-barrel launcher can bore through that bulkhead, we gotta come back this way too."

"Great..." Falco groaned again, slinging his battle rifle over his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't have to throw it ahead of him again.

"I'll get the grate, just watch my back will ya?"

"Ah, okay."

Fox unclipped a foldable screwdriver he borrowed from Slippy from a fabric loop on his suit, folding it out and handing it to Falco. The bird twirled the tool around in his hand, looking it over. He got to work soon after, attacking the screws on the metal vent grate. Fox grabbed his blaster carbine from his back, doing his best to shoulder it in the tight space. Fox reattached the light back on the gun's tactical rail to free up his left paw, and looked down to his left. The light lit up a giant ventilation fan further down, it sitting entirely still on it's motor and bearings. Behind it, more darkness he couldn't see into with just the rifle's light. He thought briefly about borrowing Falco's thermal, but seeing the tiny screws holding the optic on the bird's rifle Fox decided pulling it off just too look a bit further down wasn't worth the hassle.

Fox shifted his aim and gaze to his right, down the way the two had came. The light's limited range only permitting a good 30 feet of vision down the vent. Fox went to look back to his friend, but _something_ caught itself in Fox's peripheral vision for a split second as he went to turn his head.

_The hell...?_

He narrowed his green eyes into a squint, trying to pick out anything moving down the corridor. The sight was so brief however, that it easily could've been nothing.

_There's no air anywhere in the ship, no way anything could be alive in here, not without a suit anyways... Right?_

Fox kept looking down the vent, unsure of himself and what he was seeing. He thought back to the day they left Corneria; those 'blue dots' he had 'seen' from the couch, and in the woods across the parking lot from the spaceport's lobby. They had turned out to be nothing, after all; so why would this be any different?

_No, it's nothing. Just focus on the mission._

Before he let his mind drift into more thoughts about the black object wedged in the wreck outside, Fox turned his attention to Falco, the bird still unscrewing the grate to allow them access through to the bridge. The tight space blocked Fox's view of how far his friend was in getting the grate undone, but judging on how he was leaning to work on the bottom gave away he was almost done.

"Almost done with that?"

"Gettin' there... Ah, that's the last one." Falco handed Fox back the screwdriver, and pulled the grate away. He gave it a light shove down the main vent, towards the fan to get it out of the way entirely.

"Alright..." Falco sighed in his helmet. "Let's get through this little damn vent..."

* * *

The shuttle's radio giving off burst of static filled the shuttle's otherwise relatively silent interior. Nora's attention snapped from the training manual for an atmospheric reconnaissance drone she had found in a crate, packed under a seat. The drone manual was hardly entertaining reading material for her to browse though, but it had given her something to do for the past few hours at the very least. Groggily, Nora moved from her seat, and positioned herself appropriately to push off a wall with her legs to float into the cockpit through the open door. The shuttle's artificial gravity subsystem had been switched off to save power, thankfully, everything in the troop bay was already strapped down in one way or another before they even escaped with the shuttle. Richard had fallen asleep in one of the seats along the sides of the troop bay, having strapped himself in before dozing off. His arms floated freely out in front of him as he slept.

Nora grabbed the back of the pilot's seat, pulling herself around the chair and sitting down. The radio loudly buzzed again, Nora having turned the volume down beforehand.

"_-Th- is t-e mudskipper -lass transp-rt Red Com-t, -questing docking p-rmission with Po- Arknez__—Shit, I'm on - open chan-el? Rodger -at..."_

The shuttle had no deep-space positioning system that was standard to even the most basic of civilian starships came equipped with, so relying on the relatively short range of the shuttle's radar and radio antenna were the only options they had. The smaller radar system had no hope of picking up anything beyond roughly 300 kilometers, so only Port Arknez's powerful freelance broadcasts would let them know where in orbit the station was at longer distances. Or in this case; an amateur pilot's bad radio skills.

Nora grabbed the radio headset from it's magnetic clip, slipping it over her head and lining up the speakers for her wolf-like ears. The set was designed for pretty much every canid species that served in the Cornerian navy, and could be adjusted accordingly. Nora remembered hearing about the mudskipper-class transport; a prewar civilian model once manufactured by the questionable Thrustodyne. Working quickly, the vixen searched the overhead panel for the small toggle switch that was connected to the shuttle's reaction control thrusters, with the search intensity that'd make a detective blush.

Nora found the switch, flicking it downwards. The steady hum of the RCS thrusters coming online, as well as the sound of the shuttle's fuel cells responding to the increased power demand was music to Nora's ears.

_Maybe we'll get out of this, after all..._

Richard poked his head in, having been woken up by all the noise. His green Captain's hat was missing, but Nora paid no attention.

"I take it Arknez is close by?"

"Yes sir, amateur radio traffic got to us before the port's official navigation broadcast did."

Richard pinched the fur under his muzzle. "Odd. You'd think the transport's radio would be too weak to reach us, from this distance." Richard cleared his throat, the dry, peach smell of the compressed fruit bar he ate earlier still in his breath. "Well, I'm not going to turn down our only probable opportunity to get back to Cornerian controlled space." Richard said, as the husky maneuvered himself to sit next to Nora in the copilot's seat.

The husky strapped himself in. "Well then... Full burn, head straight to Arknez." Richard would usually give his pilot, or helmsmen, more information. However with the shuttle's limited sensors and no dedicated, separate navigator to relay him accurate tactical and navigation data, there wasn't much he could say. Nora probably didn't need it anyways, not this time at least.

Nora gave a simple nod, pushing the throttle forwards. The twin engines responded as they should, the blue glow emitting from the thruster cowlings increasing in intensity. It certainly wasn't as fast on the acceleration as a fighter, but provided the fuel held out, Richard was certain they'd catch up to Arknez in it's orbit.

* * *

Fox clambered his way out of the tiny vent, pulling himself out of the small opening and into the main access corridor. Getting his footing back with the magnetic boots, Fox took a look down the hall to his left. Lylus's faint blue rays of light could be seen from the vulpine's position in the hall; it most likely came from the Pathfinder's bridge. Falco came through right behind Fox, the pheasant grumbling under his breath as his battle rifle got stuck on something again in the vent.

"You need any help in there?"

Falco rolled his eyes. "Very funny... Startin' ta' regret bringin' this rifle, though."

Fox gave his friend a small smirk, glad that Falco was beginning to realize his mistake. Knowing the bird though, this probably wouldn't last too long. Falco stepped out into the hallway, joining Fox. "Oh man... Feels good ta' actually stand again."

Fox simply nodded in response, pulling his small blaster carbine from his back and reattaching the flashlight. "Alright, looks like the bridge is just up ahead."

"Good; I'm getting damn sick of this ship already!"

Fox couldn't help but agree as he pressed onward down the hall, the faint blue sunrays coming in from billions of kilometers away were a sight for sore eyes, despite not being in the dark for that long. Just as Fox was beginning to enjoy the better visibility, something slowly floated into view.

"Shit, is that..."

"Yeah... it's an _arm..._" Fox finished Falco's sentence for him as the severed arm came into a better view for the two. Up ahead, hidden in shadow, sat a more gruesome sight just before the doorway to the bridge. Fox panned his gunlight across the walls, the lovely-in-comparison blue rays being blocked by the slagged remains of the bridge's blast door.

"Shit..." Fox swore, staring at the blood-caked metal walls of the hallway. "Looks like the bridge put up a fight..."

"Hell, I'd say so, too." Falco said in agreement. "My bet's on a grenade; pressure wave musta' tore these guys apart. Would explain the blast mark, too." The bird stared intently at the remains of a pirate missing a leg, his blood-red light combat armor marked with a white canid skull on the shoulder pad gave away exactly who he was apart of. "Oh yeah... I know bout' these guys, Crimson Dawn or whatever. Pretty stupid name if ya' ask me, but they don't fuck around."

"Ah..." Fox mumbled in acknowledgment. "Can't say I've heard too much about them."

"Heh, I'd think you'd know more, Foxy." Falco jeered, reaching out to grab a short rifle floating nearby. The cut-down frame, stock and barrel indicated it likely belonged to one of the pirates that was now strewn about the hallway.

"These guys usually operate in the outer rim, right? Pray on ships like these?"

The pheasant nodded his helmet. "Bingo, don't make any damn sense why this thing wasn't packing guns of it's own though; No way the Navy didn't know bout' these guys..."

"Good point, it also doesn't explain the heavy weapons we found earlier, in the hall."

"Heh, or that bulkhead door that wasn't built to the regulations the Navy gets a hard-on for."

Fox rolled his eyes at the low-hanging fruit of a joke, and pressed forward to the bridge, walking around Falco as he checked another found pirate blaster. The vulpine approached the remains of the heavyset blast door, designed to protect the bridge from potential boarding action. It hadn't done it's job too well, clearly. The edges of the metal the thick door was composed of were charred and otherwise melted away; Fox assumed the pirates came with cutting equipment. The job was sloppy, too; judging from the roughly oval-like hole in the door, whoever was using the cutter likely didn't have much time. If he did, a larger opening in the metal would've been done, this one however was just large enough to hunch through.

The vulpine stepped around the remains of a free-floating body of a pirate. They all seemed to be lupine, as far as Fox could tell. Hunching his back, Fox clambered through the hole in the blast door, finally stepping into the bridge. Falco came out right behind him.

"Man, this place is a wreck!" The bird decided, looking over the remains of the ship's bridge, looking like a small tornado had passed through. Computer consoles and monitors were torn from their mounts, and shards of what was once the front window floated around haphazardly. Bits of smaller debris and various metals dotted the room, casting a spotted shadow around the room.

"Alright... If Pepper's schematic's are correct; the recorder should be nearby the center console..." Fox mumbled, looking around the room. The Captain's chair sat empty in the center of the room, elevated slightly and surrounded by a small railing.

"I'll take a look around the center, think you can look along the walls; in case the schematic's wrong?"

"Yeah, gotcha."

The two split up, each taking separate positions in the bridge. Fox started with the large computer console just behind the Captain's chair, it's screen had seemingly burst outwards from a probable overload. Fox gave it a curious glance, eyebrow raised in thought.

_I thought these things were designed NOT to overload like that..._

Falco, reluctantly doing as he said he would, slowly made his way around the edge of the bridge, peering his powerful eyes around the bridge equipment. Despite the lack of main power, a few screens were still lit, albeit dimly; Fox might not have noticed they were running with the glare from Lylus drowning out the dim interfaces. Falco decided not to mention this to Fox, as he walked up for a closer look. It only took a quick glance to find what appeared to be a cargo manifest, it didn't make much sense to the bird why it was still open, or why it was here, but it didn't really matter. The bird combed over the data, even with his lack of knowledge on things software-related, he didn't need to be told the data was probably corrupt.

_-̸O̸f̶f̴i̵c̴i̸a̶l̵ ̴c̶r̸r̵g̷0̴ ̶m̵a̵%̶i̴f̵e̴s̸t̷ ̸-̷ ̷c̷l̴a̶s̷s̶i̸f̴i̵e̸d̸ ̵d̴a̷t̶a̴:̷ ̷C̴a̴p̸t̴a̷i̶%̸9̵'̴s̶ ̶e̶y̸e̴s̵ ̶o̵n̵l̵y̵.̸-̷_

_̶-̷M̶i̷l̷i̸t̷a̸8̷y̷ ̷t̷y̷p̷e̵-̷C̸ ̴r̷a̶t̴i̸o̶n̴s̵ ̸–̶ ̶2̵0̸ ̷t̷o̵n̴s̴-̸_

_̴-̵P̵r̷e̷f̸a̶b̵r̶i̵c̷a̶t̸e̷d̷ ̶r̶e̶p̴l̷a̴c̶e̴m̴e̸n̵t̸ ̶c̸o̴m̸p̵o̵n̶e̴n̴t̶s̶ ̵–̵ ̵1̶0̸ ̸Tons-̴_

_̵-̷"̴E̵q̵u̴a̵l̴i̶z̷e̸r̵'̴ ̷T̵h̷e̷r̴m̴o̴u̸c̷l̶e̴a̴r̵ ̵w̷a̷r̴h̸e̵a̷d̷,̶ ̸Y̸i̵e̸l̷d̴ ̶5̵2̸ ̶M̸T̵ ̴(̷S̵e̷e̵ ̸a̶t̶t̶a̵c̸h̴e̸d̴ ̸n̵o̵t̴e̵)̵-̴_

"...The hell?" Falco whispered under his breath, a puzzled look across his face. "...This thing's packing some heat... But why?" An idea formulated itself in his head, the bird getting a gigantic grin across his face. Falco reached for the keyboard to scroll the list down, seeing how the list had more to it., along with the 'attached note'. He tapped the down arrow on the keyboard below.

The screen immediately locked up, the cargo manifest vanishing away and being replaced with a red, flashing screen.

_-̴U̷n̷a̵u̵t̶h̵o̸r̵i̴z̴e̸d̶ ̷u̷s̶e̵r̸ ̵d̷e̶t̷e̶c̸t̷e̴d̶;̴ ̷s̸e̵c̵u̶r̷i̴t̴y̴ ̶p̷e̸r̶s̸o̴n̶n̴e̶l̷ ̴n̴o̶t̸i̵f̶i̵e̵-̷ ̴S̶y̴s̶t̴e̸m̵ ̸e̷r̶r̵o̷r̵,̷ ̵a̵u̴t̷o̷m̶a̷t̸e̴d̷ ̷d̵e̵f̴e̴n̷s̶e̷s̴ ̶d̸i̸s̶p̵a̶t̷c̷h̴e̶d̶,̵ ̷l̴e̸t̵h̴a̵l̶ ̷f̶o̶r̷c̸e̵d̵ ̵a̶u̶t̵h̶o̴r̷i̷z̷e̶d̸-̷_

"_...Fark..."_

Falco backed away from the console, pulling his rifle from behind his back and shouldering it.

"Uh, Fox? I think we might have some company..."

"What? Why?"

Falco looked down to avert Fox's glare. "Yeah... Uh, I was lookin' through this computer here; and I guess I set somethin' off..."

Fox looked to the hole in the door, then back to Falco, eyes slightly wider in panic. "'Something off'? What, like a security system?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

"That doesn't make sense; even with secondary power working, security shouldn't have-

"_**-Be advised. Hostiles in area. Threat neutralization in progress.-" **_A deep, authoritative, distorted robotic voice boomed, the sound reverberated through the metal deck plating without an atmosphere to travel in.

"The hell? Almost sounds like ROB, but, uh..."

A mechanical rolling sound could be heard soon after, almost like a tank's treads rumbling down a steel ramp, Fox couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from but it didn't take a genius to know something was rolling towards them.

"Get that launcher of yours ready and get behind something, Falco; Something's on it's way, and it doesn't sound too friendly."

"Way ahead of ya' Foxy!" Falco said back, already knowing what to do. The mechanical rolling got louder; whatever was coming was closing the distance faster then Fox would've liked. The Vulpine ducked behind a vaguely-solid looking computer console that once belonged to the navigator, Falco taking his own position behind a locker that had been torn off the wall beforehand, it floating freely around. The bird checked the under-barrel launcher, finding it was loaded and ready.

"You got an angle?" Fox said, holding position and readying his carbine at the hole in the door. _Still makes no sense; but then again, not much here does..._

"Yeah, got a round ready for whatevea' clanker comes through."

The heavy rolling sound closed in, a red beam of light made light up the hallway beyond. Fox couldn't see what was making it, but as the beam grew in intensity it became clear it was closing in. _It's getting close...Falco better explain what set this thing off after we're done with it..._

Fox wrapped a gloved finger around the trigger, staring intensely at the door with narrowed eyes. At last, whatever had been dispatched to kill them showed itself; a small, boxy tank-like vehicle squeezed it's way in. White composite and metals that made up it's hull lit up under the sunlight, revealing a heavy blaster attached to a gimbaled mount sitting atop the body. It's long barrel swiveled around the bridge, it having not yet spotted the two. The red spotlight mounted coaxially to the gun panned around-easily telling Fox where to run should he want to get shot.

The small tank rotated it's hull to the left, pointing itself unknowingly at Falco's position behind the locker, it's magnetic tracks grinding on the deck providing limited traction as it did so. Fox didn't know if the machine was capable of picking up audio, but judging how the two teammates were chatting earlier it didn't seem likely. _Wouldn't this thing just drive in and kill the entire bridge crew? What tells it who's hostile and who's not? Gives me a stupid idea though..._

"Falco?" Fox whispered into his radio, not wanting to take the chance if the tank could hear them or not.

"Yeah? What we gonna do about this thing?"

"I'll draw it over to my position, you hit it from behind with that launcher-and please don't miss..." Fox quickly added. The tank didn't change it's behavior, it still sitting parked in front of the door and scanning the room idly with it's light-If it relied on visual detection, it could be fooled.

"Ah, gotcha." The bird responded, a bit louder then Fox would've liked.

_Here goes_...

Fox waited for the robot's turret to be pointing away from him, and popped out from behind his cover. With a grit of his teeth, Fox squeezed his gun's trigger, letting loose a quick burst of blaster fire into the machine's turret. The bolts of gas blazed through the vacuum, pelting the rear, flat plate of the turret housing. The Vulpine didn't have time to see what damage he had inflicted before the machine responded, whipping it's turret around and saturating Fox's general direction in red, glowing light.

"_**-Crime detected. Application of death sentence commencing.-" **_The robot blared back, the electrical whine of the turret's heavy blaster spooling up signaled Fox to duck behind his cover. Soon after, the turret unleashed a storm of ruby-red blaster bolts around Fox's position, the rapid muzzle flashes strobing the bridge. The beams bored into the computer console, slagging plastics and delicate components into an exotic soup of material. Fox ducked as low to the deck as he could, the occasional ruby beam cutting through the thinner parts of his cover and slamming into the wall nearby.

The turret momentarily ceased pelting the Vulpine's cover with red death. _**"-Alert. Target lock lost. Neutralization by lethal force remains primary objective.-" **_With the sound of more heavy, mechanical rolling, the tank began to slowly reposition itself, looking for a better angle to kill Fox from.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU FALCO?!" Fox screamed into his suit's radio, having expected the bird to have fired his grenade launcher by now.

Falco didn't respond.

Fox clambered around his cover, trying to put as much matter between him and the tank as the bridge allowed; it was hardly designed to handle a firefight. The tank rolled forward, keeping it's turret pointed in the last spot it saw Fox. He briefly looked to the spot his friend was hiding behind, his feet just barely visible under the locker. He was clearly still there, but why hadn't he done anything?

The robot found an angle on Fox's previous position, it's gun spooling up despite it not having acquired a visual. The heavy blaster let out another torrent of red death into the computer console, Fox ducking as low as he could go to minimize his profile. The Vulpine's cover had already deteriorated from the first torrent, the fully automatic death spitting out the barrel and lancing into the navigator's console. The beams tore into the screen from the new angle, bits of debris kicking off in every direction. A few more sustained beams cut straight through, blazing right over Fox's head, one going between his pointed ears.

Fox yelped in pain as a bolt slammed into his thigh, burning it's way through the suit, fur and flesh. The burning sensation nearly overtook Fox's senses, him seething for air through gritted teeth while trying to endure the pain. _"-Warning; suit breach detected, sealant and medical treatment recommended."- _

The robot held fire once again, the barrel of it's heavy blaster glowing orange-red from sustained fire. It was like it was giving Fox a chance for a moment.

_**WHUMP**_

A small projectile soared through the vacuum, twisting in flight. The robot had no time to react, as the round slammed into it's hull. The small warhead detonated on impact, sending a small, snappy shockwave and bits of debris washing over the bridge.

"_**-Status report: yellow and falling. Perimeter security can no longer be guaranteed.-"**_

The smoke around the robotic tank cleared, revealing the round had impacted center-mass with a blackened mark across it's hull, somehow blowing off a track in the process. The tank attempted to move, but failed to do much more then spin in a tight circle as Fox could hear it's single, functional track grinding on the charred deck. Falco made himself known to the machine, popping out of cover and readying another grenade.

"Guarantee this, asshole!"

_**WHUMP**_

A second grenade rocketed out of the under-barrel launcher, it blazing across the room and impacting the small tank again. A similar pressure wave washed over the bridge again, punting around more floating debris. The tank-somehow still able to fire back, answered Falco's launcher with a shower of blaster fire, forcing him back into cover. The ruby death raked up and down the locker the bird was using for cover, it holding firm for the most part.

"_**-Status report: red. Primary system failure imminent. Repair or reinforcement recommended. Fuel cell damage detected; risk of catastrophic overload increasing. Non-combatants are advised to seek intimidate shelter.-"**_

The robot's cannon spun down, it's now-flickering light panning over the bridge in search of a new target. Fox, clutching the wound in his thigh peeked around the corner at the rouge machine; it's optics were damaged by Falco's last grenade. It seemed to loose sight of his friend as he hid, even holding fire like it wasn't sure if the bird was even there.

_Looks like it's relying on motion now... Shit, this hurts... Gives me an idea, though..._

Fox twisted his torso, the aggravated wound sending up spikes of intense pain as he did so. The Vulpine fought his way through the hurting, grabbing a chunky piece of debris floating nearby with a gloved paw. Fox looked it over, the piece being an unrecognizable, slagged ball of composite still warm to the touch, even through his gloves. It would do.

Fox wound back for a throw with his right arm, hurling the scrap across the bridge as fast as his battered body would allow. Just as Fox would've hoped, the turret snapped it's aim and searchlight to the chunk, it's gun spinning up and eviscerating the poor scrap with more ruby beams.

_Good... Looks like it's too damaged to tell the difference anymore..._

Fox let out a sigh, preparing himself mentally to grab and throw more debris. The wound and the suit breach could wait for another minute. The Vulpine caught another chunky bit of scrap in his paw, not bothering to see what it exactly even was this time. The machine's turret panned around again, it having decided Fox's first bit of scrap was 'dead'. The flicking light washed over Falco's locker again, it not opening fire despite it should've known the bird might've still been there.

"Falco..." Fox wheezed. "I'm gonna distract it... You hit it's turret, put it outta' commission for good..."

"Gotcha!"

Fox closed his eyes briefly, sighing. He chucked the scrap into the 'air' as fast as he could. Just like last time, the tank's light washing the unfortunate bit of debris. It's gun spun up again, preparing to fire with ruby light glowing along it's barrel.

"Now Falco!"

The bird swung out of cover, striking a pose like an action movie star from a bygone era while brandishing his battle rifle from the hip.

"Looks like you're last years model!"

The tank, detecting Falco's movement as a higher priority, began to swivel it's gun in intent to slag the bird.

Falco's trigger finger was faster.

_**WHUMP**_

The grenade sailed through the vacuum as the machine's turret glowed red in preparation to fire. The 40 millimeter projectile flew slightly wide, sideswiping the turrets' blocky housing, and impacting the gun's feed system. The round detonated right on the small tube feeding into the gun's receiver, it already full of blaster gas.

The entire bridge seemed to shake, lighting up in a blinding wash of white-orange light as the entire tank was engulfed in a powerful fireball, it's fuel cells rupturing and overloading entirely. A nasty shockwave rippled over the room, Fox and Falco ducking behind cover to avoid the lethal pressure wave and shrapnel. The blast wave slammed into what was left of the bridge's windows, blowing out and shattering them entirely.

Falco peeked his head from out behind the locker he had taken refuge behind, it's back panel warped and burnt from sustained blaster fire. The blast wave would've blown in away and taken him with it, had it not gotten jammed into a small strut connecting the wall and ceiling. He looked over to Fox, the Vulpine slumped against the shredded computer console.

"Hey! It's dead Fox!" Falco exclaimed, looking down at Fox. The Vulpine didn't respond, nor did he move. "Uh, Fox? You oka- Oh shit..." He deadpanned, noticing the piece of scrap that_ had impaled Fox in the abdomen._

"Y-Yeah... It's dead..." Fox weakly croaked, coughing up a small amount of blood into his helmet.

"Shit..."

* * *

Port Arknez's flashing lights flickered in the distance through the shuttle's cockpit, providing hope against the backdrop of black despair. Smaller lights followed closely by engine trails of different colors looped around the port like a small swarm of metal insects. Richard stared intently at the giant orbital structure, an expression of mild disgust across his muzzle.

"...Never thought I'd come here, out of desperation..."

Arknez was one of a handful of so-called 'Freeports', a hub of free, and nearly limitless unregulated trade of everything under Lylus; every commodity from cheap ores, to harvested organs and recreational drugs could be bought and sold at a Freeport. All of the ports were far away from Corneria out of necessity, and Arknez happened to be the furthest one away from Lylat.

"Should we ask for docking clearance, sir?"

"...Yeah, it's one of the few things, if not the only, that's actually regulated here. I'll do it; I've dealt with people like this before the war."

Nora got out of the Captain's way as he reached for the headset and pulled it over his head. With a long pause and a sigh, Richard keyed the microphone.

"This is Captain Richard of the Conerian navy shuttle CV-12B, requesting docking permission at Port Arknez, over..." Richard said, being careful not to spill any more details then flight control needed to know. A few seconded past by, the radio only producing static.

"_-Conerian shuttle, this is flight control. State your business at Arknez. You should know by now you guys aren't what we'd call... Welcome, here.-"_

Richard let out a quiet sigh, the sent of the mediocre fruit bar still in his breath. "Acknowledged, flight control... We don't plan on staying long, only thing we need are supplies, and enough fuel to make it back to Cornerian controlled space. We'll be out of your fur and on our way before you know it."

Fight control didn't respond back, Nora's eyes frantically darting to the distant station and back to the shuttle's radio, her paws uncomfortably squeezing the flight stick. Nonetheless, she pressed the shuttle onward, closing the distance between the station and the shuttle. More, small details of the port became clearer along the port's hull. Patchy repairs of different, jumbled metals welded together dotted the vaguely cylindrical station and it's two, large outer rings. One of the two rings seemed to be damaged, large sections of hull missing, with the tendrils of large power conduits and pipes sticking out into the void, connecting to nothing.

The radio cracked alive once more. _"-Rodger that, shuttle... Transferring you to docking control...-" _The voice on the other end finally answering back, tone of voice reluctant. Another, but ultimately similar voice cut in, replacing flight control's. _"-Docking permission granted, head to pad five-zero-six. Docking control, out.-"_

Richard and Nora breathed a collective sigh of relief, with the fox pulling the control stick slightly right, guiding the shuttle towards the port's large access slot.

* * *

**Location: [Redacted]**

* * *

The icy, tundra-like wasteland of the planet's surface stretched out for miles, the land being swallowed by the distant, thick fog kilometers away. Ice-capped mountains towered into the low cloud cover, their rocky surfaces being dotted with various alien trees and patches of ice and glittering-white snow. Perched along the side of a steep cliff, ran a single stretch of snow-covered railway line, it's supports bolted and drilled dozens of meters into the solid rock face of the mountain. The roar of a powerful locomotive overtook the howling chill of the wind, it's dual headlamps casting an immense wash of blue-tinted light over the rails and rock ahead.

The train's streamlined front end cut through the icy air, effortlessly clearing aside the layer of snow built up over the rails and casting the powder down the cliff. It's horn blared, a piercing roar of angry sound bouncing across the nearby landscape, warning any native wildlife that had wandered onto the rails ahead of death-by-impact. Not all the wildlife took heed of the warning though, they'd learn in time.

Commander Noveru stretched out her arms with a long yawn as she got out of bed. The tall canid choosing a white, fluffy robe to match her snow-colored fur. The commander slipped it on after grabbing it from the closet, making sure the fabric sufficiently covered the long cybernetic implant that replaced her spinal cord, and wrapped partway around her belly. It had an armored cover for her back, but she'd rather sleep without it.

_I suppose I should take a look outside..._

Noveru glanced over to the wall perpendicular to her bed, her cybernetic eyes displaying the outside of the train through the solid armor via an advanced augmented-reality system. To the unaided observer, she'd be staring at a blank wall, but Noveru could see the tundra outside the railcar racing by, the train traveling too fast for her to make out any details. Particles of snowfall whizzed by, the planet's seemingly endless winter in full swing.

_Same old, same old..._ The tall canid sighed, trotting over to her cabin's beverage machine to get a cup of something she hadn't decided on. A soft knock sounded through the cabin's door, being quiet enough to not wake the Commander should she still be asleep. Briefly thinking about the point of even knocking, Noveru answered back.

"Yes?"

"Uh, Commander, we've got some new intel on the situation regarding the missing prototype..."

Novreu raised a furry eyebrow. "Come in, let's see it then."

The door slid open with an electrical whine, revealing a solider standing in the hall. He was outfitted in a suit of winterized power armor, the waist lined with pocketed powercells and other smaller bits of tactical equipment. He didn't have a full helmet, letting the Commander witness his messy tan and gray fur along his muzzle, small bits of snow clinging to the ends. He held a small datapad in his gloved left paw, his right snapping into a brisk salute upon seeing her.

"Corporal Issac- Oh..." His expression changed, his cheeks almost blushing best they could in embarrassment at catching Noveru in her robe.

"Not an issue, Corporal." Noveru waved his concern off, noticing his face. "I wouldn't have even answered if I didn't want to be disturbed... Anyways, intel?" She answered his concern with a long yawn, the realm of sleep still yet to leave her entirely.

"Ah, right, here you are." The armor-clad solider handed Noveru the datapad, the electronic responding to the commander's touch by waking up, it's cyan monitor glowing soft light upon Noveru's face.

"Thank you, Corporal... Say, you still on your shift?"

"Yes... What about it?"

A small hint of a smile crept onto her lips. "Take an early break, grab something warm to drink; we're not under threat, no need for you to be on patrol right now."

Issac stood still, face twisting into a slight, puzzled expression. "I, uh... Thank you, Commander..." The canid gave another practiced, swift salute. The female gave him a swift, friendly nod in return, Issac taking it as his que to leave. The solider marched back down the hallway to find the nearest break room, leaving the Commander to her own devices. Noveru closed the door, bringing up the transparent datapad closer to her eyes, her pupils coursing over the bright, cyan text;

_-Long range surveillance probes have detected positive, trace amounts of element 214 (a.k.a; '_Zuchite_')In outer rim of 'Lylat'. Probable remains of prototype space superiority fighter (Project 'Starburner') are highly likely to be located in-system. Deployment of recovery team and/or operatives recommended. _

_-Empyrean__-class event chance is estimated as 'low', however, due to nature of 'Lylat', quick recovery of the prototype is critical. We're counting on you, Commander. You know what happened last time._

* * *

_**A/N: Unfortunately, this might be the last chapter I post for a while; the majority of the plot is a partly-unwritten mess, and I'd really like to correct that before I even think about moving this forward. Me being an overall slow writer doesn't help, either...**_


	6. Chapter 6

Fox McCloud groaned, trying to move anything he could. A icy cold, wet feeling overwhelmed his nerves, the chilling shock not being what he'd expected after passing out earlier. Fox's senses slowly came back to him, his entire body wrapped in a cold blanket of still air. He forced his eyes open slowly, unsure what he would see. A gunmetal gray, welded and segmented ceiling was the first thing to meet his blurry vision, with dead light fixtures mounted to it in a repeating pattern. The vulpine attempted to glance around wherever he was, not feeling like moving his entire head just yet. Fox almost instantly recognized his surroundings; the bridge of the Pathfinder. Gathering enough strength and willpower to sit up, Fox brought himself up off the floor where he found himself laying.

"...Wait... Cold?" Fox mumbled, not feeling the warm inner layer of his undersuit. Instead, he felt his _bare fur_ ripple in a passing breeze, he wasn't wearing his vacuum suit anymore. Panic took hold, instinctively holding his breath in what was a futile attempt to survive unprotected. But, instead of the freezing death of the void overtaking him, only a simple chilly current of air came along, more like a winter wind on Corneria; cold, but it wouldn't kill him directly. Fox took a sharp breath in, deciding if the wind blew then he could probably breath.

"_...Seems okay..."_

Fox's breathing calmed, panic subsiding as he closed his eyes for a second in an attempt to relax. He opened his eyes, taking time to look around. The bridge was mostly how he'd left it, minus his new, flat position on the floor. His vision gazed at the front window, it still being shattered in a spiderweb of cracks.

"_...W-how am I still breathing...?"_

Despite the apparent hull breach exposing the interior to deadly vacuum, Fox could still breath. The damage from the fight with the robot was still around too, with the scarred far wall covered in hundreds of heat marks from where the robot's weapon went wide. The cabinet that Falco had taken cover behind was carved up and slagged, but had still sheltered the bird from the storm of blaster fire the robot had put down. The thing's wreckage was still there, too. The blown-open hull still sitting on the floor where the grenade had contacted it, it's turret missing entirely. Falco however, was nowhere to be seen. Had he left him here?

Fox, slowly began pulling himself off the ground with a nearby safety railing. He quickly remembered being impaled in the leg, and getting shot somewhere on his hip, but looking down, there was nothing. Just his normal getup of the usual green flight suit and his white jacket. Nothing was sticking out of his leg, and Fox didn't feel any pain in his hip.

"_...What? W-why am I wearing this?"_

"Hey Fox!"

He blinked once, opening his eyes. Fox stood up for a better look outside, but immediately noticed the figure standing in front of the window, staring at him.

Two tall, cream-colored furry ears gave Fox a good idea who it was.

"...F-fara?! What-why are you here?"

The fennec gave Fox a small smile, being dressed in a getup rather similar to Fox, but with a pink flight suit and hoodie.

"Oh... You know... Just chillin'..." Her voice seemed chilling, being unusually calm despite the situation, as if she didn't know where she was.

"That... That doesn't really tell me anything... Fara, w-where have you been? I haven't seen you in years..."

The fennec turned around, gazing out the front window and putting her arms behind her back. She sighed, giving a slight shake of her head. "...None of this is real Fox... You should've known that by now..."

"Yeah... Should've figured that..." Fox sighed, walking up to her by the window. He quickly recognized the outside through the shattered glass, the inky black void outside held no stars, nor anything else. The glowing rays of Lylus were no longer present, being nearly identical to the dark realm where he fought Wolf in another dream.

"I need to warn you, Fox..." Fara mumbled, her eyes still staring into the dark abyss outside. "Someone close, a friend... Isn't planning on being truthful to you..."

Fox's complete attention turned to the Fennec. "...Who?"

Fara's voice shifted to slight panic. "I-I'm sorry Fox... I cannot tell you... _He_ is watching me... I only have so much time to contact you." Her tone seemed to tremble at the mention of 'He'.

"W-what? Who's watching?"

"**I am, and I wouldn't get in my way, were I you..."**

Fox began to turn around and look behind him, trying to see where the second voice came from. It seemed deep, cold and monotone, with Fox lacking anything to compare it to in the second he had to think.

_WHAM!_

Before Fox could see behind him, a powerful blow struck him square on the cheek. The impacted imparted enough energy to knock him over, sending Fox sprawling to the metal deck. Pain shot through his skull where he had been hit, and Fox could taste the coppery tang of his blood in his mouth. His body hit the ground, splashing in a shallow puddle of chilly water. The vulpine held his paw to the injury, feeling bone that was probably out of place with his blood-stained fingers.

"Ahhh... Shit..." Fox groaned, slowly picking himself off the ground again, clutching his cheek.

More gray wall and ceiling met his vision, the walls taking on a rocky texture instead of the smooth metal. Fox braced himself on the cold wall with a paw, but found more cold metal to grab. A few dozen pipes ran along the walls, each being different diameters and shades of gray or black. A few were marked with what appeared to be text, but Fox couldn't make out what any of them said. Another feeling snapped back to him; water current, and that he was currently soaked, but was standing in an inch or two of water that flowed down the long, dim and wet hallway he found himself in.

"...The hell...?" Fox mumbled weakly, the throbbing pain in his cheek subsiding just enough to become more of an annoyance rather then something too painful.

None of this made any sense; this wasn't the Pathfinder, or the Great Fox. It didn't even look like a ship at all, not one he'd seen anyway; nobody builds their ships out of... Concrete? Fox's flight suit and jacket were drenched, along with the fur underneath it. It'd provide no protection from the chilly air and current covering the entire floor in a small stream.

Another sense came back to him as he carefully picked himself off the floor. The sound of howling, intense wind seemed to bounce off the walls, followed by what appeared to sound similar to the thunderous _boom_ of crashing waves. Fox thought back to the surf on Aquas, remembering Falco trying and failing miserably to surf the crashing waves, while the sound now was rather similar to the oceans of the blue planet, no waves he'd heard were as loud or as deep as what he heard now.

Fox glanced around once again after standing up, now that his sight had mostly returned. The hallway he found himself had a vague hexagonal shape, the pipes from before coming into more detail. The text he'd spotted earlier was completely illegible to the vulpine as he took a closer look.

"...Can't say I've seen this before... I don't even know if it's even writing, or if it means anything..."

The text resembled various shapes and lines, precisely arranged in a neat 'font' along some of the pipes, a few repeating symbols told Fox it was probably a language, but not that one he'd be able to read anytime soon. The vulpine sighed, picking a direction to follow in the hallway, the current flowed off to the right, towards where Fox thought he'd heard the waves from.

"Maybe... if I get outside I can figure out where the hell I am..."

Fox began his soggy march down the hall, it feeling more like a sewer then anything else. It didn't smell the part, but Fox certainty wasn't going to try taking a drink. The water was rather clear though, the stone-like texture of the ground being clearly visible underneath the calm , bubbly current. Fox let out a deep sigh, stating down the hallway. He still had no idea where he was. He'd never seen a location like this, with large runoff canals on Papetoon for the infrequent rainy seasons being the only thing to compare this place too. Even then, you weren't supposed to _walk_ through the current.

Dim, rectangular lights recessed into the ceiling provided a dim, white glow for Fox to walk through, probably being for whenever some poor maintenance worker needed to come down here and fix something. A chilly wind blew down from the direction the vulpine was walking to, the icy bite eating away any warmth he had left. His soaked fur and clothing only made things worse as he shivered from the cold wave.

"...Not as bad as Fichina... But, damn..."

The roaring waves got closer, the sound of them splashing seemingly vibrating the walls ever so slightly, followed by yet another wave of freezing air from down the hall. Not seeing any other options other then turning around, Fox pressed onward down the dim hall, his durasteel combat boots trudging and splashing in the shallow current.

"_...So... I was fighting a robot on the bridge of the Pathfinder... And now, I'm in a drainage tunnel somewhere... Is this the same deal with the dream with Wolf?" _Fox thought to himself, keeping his mind occupied as he marched on down. "...Wait... My scouter's GPS..."

Fox tapped the side of his headset, it thankfully powering on without an issue. The usual cross hair it displayed showing up in the eyepiece he used when flying. Obviously, it had no wireless connection to his or the team's Arwings down here. Fox pressed another button on the side, toggling the small GPS antenna on. His headset's small power cell wouldn't last forever, and Fox had no idea if he'd ever get to recharge it down here.

"_Hopefully this finds some- Oh, wait... I'm probably behind a few meters of concrete... Never mind..."_

Fox sighed, turning off the antenna before it used more battery. "Better find... Well, outside." The vulpine gave a sad shrug, walking onward down the tunnel.

Fox's boots continued to slog through the current, splashing the already wet walls even further.

"Still the same crap..." He mumbled, shaking his head. Small droplets of water spraying off his fur. Fox had been walking for what could've easily been 15 minutes, and the hallway had shown no sign of changing in direction or appearance. His scouter's clock was working just fine at least, but down here every minute felt exactly the same.

"_If this is a dream... I-I don't know, guess I'll snap out of it eventually... I hope."_

Fox's expression soured; the dream with Wolf had only been a few minutes, but this one had dragged on for longer then he'd like.

"_Unless... This ISN'T a dream... and everything else is- No... That-that doesn't make any sense... But then again, these things don't usually in the first place... Damnit!"_

As if to save him from thinking about it any deeper, a small light at the end of the tunnel came clearly into view, glowing a neon cyan like the rest of the dotted lights along the tunnel. This one was clearly mounted vertically on the wall, hopefully because the tunnel branched off somewhere; the current had to flow somewhere after all.

Fox broke into a splashing jog, kicking up more water as he picked up speed. The booming crash of the waves was clearly louder now, with the chilly wind biting at his damp fur once again.

"Please be something..." Fox mumbled in his jog, the light becoming clearing in view as he approached. The current could be seen being joined by more water from another perpendicular tunnel, both joining up and flowing out of view to the left. After a good 30 seconds of jogging, Fox reached the junction in the tunnel. The crashing waves were much louder now, Fox having a hard time hearing himself think over the perpetual noise. He glanced to his left, another identical hallway with current running in the opposite direction he was looking. He couldn't see the end of it, it being too long.

To Fox's right, was another stretch of hallway. Instead of stretching off into the distance, this one seemed to end into a larger, open area. Fox could spot another featureless wall further down on the other side, it seemingly being the other end of the open area.

"Finally..."

Fox took a right, approaching the end of the hall. The pipes on either sides of the hallway ended here, dumping what looked like more water into whatever lay ahead. A handrail was built into the wall as he neared the viable end, Fox grabbing hold as the howling, chilly wind became stronger and stronger. The vulpine was thankful for whoever built this place, as the rail probably existed for this sole purpose. Fox pulled himself along the handrail, forcing himself to walk into the hurricane that seemed to be just ahead outside, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes as he made his way further to the outside.

The vulpine reached the edge of the tunnel, with a monstrous chasm awaiting him. The water from the tunnel being dumped downwards out of view. Fox peeked over the edge and cast his gaze, eyes going wide Below him was a churning maelstrom of gigantic ocean waves hundreds of meters down, each being putting even the worst storm waves on Aquas to shame with their sheer size and intensity. The waves slapped the side of a monolithic, flat wall of concrete and metal built into an enormous rectangular block of sheer mass. Other drainage tunnels on the other side of the chasm drained more water into the wet void below.

Fox slowly glanced to his right, seeing what appeared to be more walls of titanic size, arranged like hulking buildings in mammoth-sized city blocks, with streets of churning storms. The dim sunlight struggled to break through what Fox assumed were the clouds, casting dim photons down into the abyss. Heavy rain poured down from the sky, the hail of moisture clearly visible from glowing, cyan lights lining the side of each monolith. The vulpine angled his head skyward, hoping to see anything above. The massive structures stretched up into the sky, with the higher-up walls being lined with what seemed like shimmering and smooth windows.

Distant thunder flashed, casting the entire landscape in a brief flash of light. Even higher up on the structures, Fox could make out more shapes through holes in the dark clouds. A complex network of bridges and walkways seemed to connect each titanic structure, with the white, moving glow of what might've been _headlights_ shining on the sides of the walls.

"_Are those... Headlights? Oh shit..."_

Fox realized that each towering structure was a gigantic _building, _all apart of a_ city _on a scale that even the most creative civil engineers in Lylat couldn't even_ dream _of. Fox's jaw hung open as he took in the insane sights. He'd never seen anything like any of this, even just one of these buildings could put the biggest skyscrapers in Corneria city to shame. Fox had no idea how tall they were, but judging by each one's diameter the things might be easily kilometers in height.

"_...And it's built on a goddamn ocean? HOW? No way this can all float... But the foundations must be insane to hold these things up if they don't..."_

The screaming roar of an aircraft engine seemingly came out of nowhere, Fox turning his gaze to the direction of the thunderous sound. The level of noise quickly overtook the roar of the waves, with Fox using a free paw to feebly cover his left ear and trying to fold back his right. Seconds later, a black shape careened by at a speed that would give a Wolfen fighter a run for it's credits. Just as it passed by Fox's position on the wall, it's engines somehow became _louder, _followed by a powerful shockwave emitting from it's dual, glowing thrusters.

The pressure wave shook the entire concrete and metal landscape as it passed by, rattling the poor vulpine to the bone. Fox screamed in pain at the sheer level of decibel, his furry ears literally bleeding from being quickly ruptured. The vulpine lost his grip on the railing, tumbling forwards into the abyss below with a scream. As he plummeted end-over-end, he barely caught a glimpse of the aircraft responsible, it's long fuselage, canards and long swept-forward wings shooting upwards in an impossibly steep upward bank while maintaining it's speed, rocketing upwards into the clouds.

Fox's poor body impacted the churning sea below, all his senses instantly going black.

* * *

Peppy tipped the hot kettle over his mug, filling the ceramic cup with steaming hot water with the teabag already waiting inside. The hare gave the beverage a quick stir, leaving the cup alone to brew on the metal counter top, with him sitting on the nearby couch to wait. Peppy let out a sigh, letting himself sink into the foam padding.

"...Falco?"

The bird was sitting on the other end of the couch, clutching a game controller in his wings, eyes set intensely into the nearby screen mounted on the wall. After a good few seconds, Falco let himself pause the game to give the hare some of his split attention. "Yeah?"

"You check on Fox lately? All I've seen you do today is play that game..."

"Uh, yeah, like... uh..."

"...Nine hours? Minus the time you sat in your room doin' who-knows-what?"

"Hey! I ain't been playin' that long!" Falco shot back, having lost his sense of time for the moment.

"...You started a few hours after you two came back in the shuttle... That was yesterday. Don't think I've seen you go to the medbay since..."

Falco shrugged, taking a long swig of his soda set on the coffee table in front of them. "Eh... I ain't worried; if ROB says he's fine, then he's fine..."

Peppy sighed, letting his arms go limp on the couch and leaning back. "...While that might be true, that's not the point of seein' him... You know, since he's your friend and all..."

Falco didn't respond back, his expression seemingly twisting into one of guilt. The rabbit sighed at his response, or lack thereof. "...You're lucky I don't have the energy to start tellin' you off right now..."

Falco remained silent, out of guilt, shame or a mixture of something else Peppy was too tired to tell. The rabbit slowly got off the couch, with the bird resuming his game once again. Peppy grabbed his mug, collecting milk and sugar from the cabinet and fridge to add to his drink. Falco resumed his game, flipping through menus of all the loot he'd collected over hundreds of hours of playtime. Most of them were just boxes, filled with randomized items he had yet to open.

Falco stared over at Peppy making his tea, making sure the rabbit was occupied and would remain so for the next few seconds. Quickly, Falco flipped through another game menu, this one being a credit shop for more of his virtual crates, the rare, bright purple and expensive ones. Before Falco could buy more using Peppy's account, a frightening, high-pitched scream of terror echoed through the halls of the ship, giving the bird a startle and causing him to drop the controller.

"Uh oh, was that...?"

"Yeah. Sounds like Fox... ROB?"

The Great Fox's in-house android came over the carrier's intercom. _"Captain Fox McCloud has regained conscious, he is currently in state of panic, but is otherwise medically stable."_

Peppy let out a sigh of relief, thankful that Fox hadn't fallen out of his bed and landed on something._ "_Thanks ROB... I'll be there in a sec..."

* * *

Fox's panicked breathing overtook his senses as he shot up in his bed, his paws clutching his sheets like the railing from before. As the familiar sights of the Great Fox's medical room came back to his sight. The warm, fuzzy blanket he was covered in was a warm bastion of comfort compared to the chilling, wet gusts of wind and spray from his previous location. His breathing calmed, Fox realizing he wasn't in the monolithic, strange city from before.

The door slid open, Peppy walking through in a speedy stride, the two's eyes met.

"Heya Fox... Uh... You okay?" The hare asked, his tone seemingly careful with his choice of words.

Fox took a second to respond, thinking Peppy's question over. "...Well... I guess I am now." The vulpine allowed himself to relax, The rabbit's presence establishing what was real to Fox even more so. "How long was I out?"

"Ehhhh... 15 hours, give or take. ROB got that shard out of your leg, too. It shouldn't hurt too much, but I wouldn't walk on it for long..."

"Thanks... Uh, I guess you heard me screaming, didn't you?" Fox blushed slightly, cheeks going red over ashamed that he freaked out over what amounted to a rather surreal dream.

Peppy gave Fox a sad look. "Yeah... You wanna tell me what that was about, Fox?"

The vulpine gave a reluctant, small nod. "Might as well, otherwise this will probably bug me later..." Fox took a deep breath in, struggling to remember exactly what he had seen, despite him just being in it moments before.

"Okay... So, I remember passing out on the bridge of the Pathfinder... Wait, did Falco find the recorder?" Fox began to start panicking again, he didn't particularity want to head back inside that wreck for a second time.

Peppy nodded, seeing Fox's expression. "Yep, it's sitting somewhere on our bridge. And no; We haven't looked inside..."

The vulpine breathed a sigh of relief, picking up where he left off. Fox went over his recent dream, describing in the best detail he could muster. The stale, yet breathable air of the Pathfinder's bridge despite it being breached, and the lack of his injures from the fight. Then he got to Fara, and her cryptic words before he was knocked out.

"...Alright... It-it was Fara... She was there with me on the bridge... Said something about 'someone close to me isn't going to be truthful', and that someone was after her."

"Fara?" Peppy questioned, his expression twisting into one of blatant curiously. "We haven't seen her in years..." Peppy paused, thinking the meeting the fennec for the first time, before the war. But... Someone not telling the truth, huh?" Peppy rubbed his paw on Fox in an attempt to comfort him further. "Well... I haven't lied to you, Fox. And I don't plan on it, if that makes you feel any better..."

"T-thanks, pep'..." Fox took in a deep breath, picking up where he left off. Going over the flooded hallway and the unknown language marking the pipes, with Peppy taking interest with an eyebrow raise. "Language huh? Might be nothin' for all I know, dreams aren't known to make sense..."

"...I don't know Pep'. It all felt weird anyways..."

The hare nodded, rubbing his cheek. "Anyways, you were sayin'?"

The vulpine struggled to remember the prior events, doing his best to recall the giant city he'd witnessed.

"...Wait wait wait... Hold on Fox, a city? On an ocean? You sure that's not Aquas?" Peppy held out a paw, thinking to Aquas's floating cities.

"No... I don't think what I saw were even floating... They all had these giant concrete foundations. Like, as thick as an entire block in Corneria city, but-but for a single building..."

"Well... Lylat's got nothin' like that, far as I'm aware. Seems like somethin' out of one of Falco's games..."

"It-it gets worse..." Fox mumbled. "This-this aircraft passes by while I'm on the edge... And, I... I fell..."

Peppy sighed. "I take it that's why you were screaming when you woke up?"

Fox sniffled. "...Yeah... Sorry Peppy. I think that's all I can really remember." Peppy only nodded, rubbing Fox with his paw. Peppy's actions closely reminded Fox of his father, the older vulpine's soft, comforting hugs being something to look forward when he got home from another successful mission. Fox stopped himself before this thoughts went too far ahead in the timeline, to darker thoughts involving a certain pig.

"...You wouldn't know what that aircraft looked like, I take it?"

Fox leaned back in the bed, rusting his back and letting out a long sigh. "Not really... Didn't look like anything I've seen before, though. It wasn't an Arwing or a Wolfen, that's for sure."

"Hmmm..." Peppy placed a paw on his chin, thinking. "Eh, wouldn't worry about it too much..." His phone buzzed twice, the hare pulling it out of his jacket pocket. Peppy opened it up, seeing an update to his bank account.

_-Recent transaction detected. 120 C spent at: Deep souls 5, charged to user: __Fa1c0nX__ ._

The rabbit grumbled something under his breath, taking in a deep breath in.

"FALCO!"

* * *

The vulpine leaned back in his captain's chair, the metal throne providing much-needed relief to his bandaged leg. It didn't hurt as much anymore, thanks to the liberal amount of painkillers Peppy had suggested earlier. The wound felt more like a slight throb now more than anything, but walking on it still proved rather unconformable. Fox gazed out into space, the stars and familiar planet they approached being a relief from the starless, strange opaque realm of Fox's dreams.

The Great Fox achieved high orbit over Corneria, parking itself in a stable geostationary position roughly above the Capital. The green, lush continents of the planet poked through fluffy cloud cover below them, along with small patches of gray where larger population centers were located.

"Slippy, open a channel with Corneria Central Starport's flight control?" Fox asked, glancing over to the toad, with Slippy manning a computer console on Fox's right.

"Opening a channel..." Slippy navigated his hands over the computer in a practiced motion, connecting a direct channel to flight control as ordered. "Channel open, Fox!" He exclaimed, Fox giving him a silent thanks in the form of a nod. Fox raised his voice, making it easier for the microphone to pick him up.

"This Fox McCloud, commanding the light carrier Great Fox. Requesting permission to land at-"

"_-Great Fox, this is flight control. Be advised that we are under direct orders from General Rickenbacker to divert you to Fort Nyle Air Force Base, how copy?-"_

Fox paused for a moment, surprised at the sudden change of orders. "Uh... One moment flight control-"

"_-Negative, Great Fox. You are ordered to land at Fort Nyle Immediately. Docking control will contact you on approach to the base, you are already cleared to enter the base's airspace. Repeat, how copy?-"_

Stumped, but not willing to refuse the order, Fox reluctantly spoke back. "...Good copy, flight control... setting a course for Fort Nyle..." The vulpine killed the line, leaning back in his chair. He let out a long groan, disappointed in another change of plans.

"Peppy, do we know a General Rickenbacker?"

The hare groaned at the name, resting his head on his paw and staring down. "...Yeah... I know him... Small time General, last time I heard he was in charge of a tank battalion... Guess he got promoted. He's not the nicest dog, him and Pepper don't get along. Somethin' about 'acceptable losses' or whatever."

Falco yawned, taking a chunk out of a slice of greasy pizza sitting nearby at his station on the bridge, wolfing it down. "Can't say I'm likin' this new guy... Hell, Haven't even heard about im' until now... Can we even trust him, Pep'?"

"I wouldn't trust that bastard as far as I could throw him, and I ain't too strong these days..."

Falco went utterly silent, eyes darting to Fox, the vulpine still staring ahead. His expression seemed worried as Peppy glanced over to the bird, but the hare didn't press further.

"ROB? Plot us a course to Fort Nyle?" Fox commanded, the robot immediately beginning to type on the keyboard in front of him.

"_Acknowledged, Captain McCloud. Planetary reentry vector plotted, commencing main engine burn..."_

The carrier slowly pressed forward, powerful thrusters burning liquid methane a in brilliant blue cone of light. The fires of atmospheric reentry made themselves known shortly after, bathing the Great Fox's hull in an dance of orange and white embers. RCS fired, angling the carrier into a diagonal, nose-first dive into the atmosphere, allowing the ship's to bleed off speed. The atmosphere had claimed many lives during the early Cornerian space age, with returning craft sometimes lacking vital heat shields, or a poor understanding of the pilot. Regardless, reentry was more akin to a controlled crash then a flight back then. Now, doing it was practically trivial.

The ship plunged into the planet's sky, the resistant outer hull providing more than enough protection from frictional heating cooking the craft into a exotic soup of material. The vessel shook as it approached the lower atmosphere and the clouds, like an old airliner flying through turbulent skies. Fox clutched the armrests of his seat, keeping himself in place as the ship descended deeper into the atmosphere. Despite the intense rattling of the hull, the vulpine took the time to rest his eyes, thinking about what the team would do after they turned over the flight recorder. The supposed paycheck was valued in the low millions; enough to keep the carrier flying for almost a year in terms of general maintenance and fuel.

_A vacation would be nice..._

The carrier nosed forward, it having bled off enough speed for regular atmospheric flight. The four, pointed wings bit into the thick air, providing sufficient lift along with the repulsors to fly. The Great Fox broke through the clouds, the vast metropolitan area of Corneria City sitting in the distance, the city's different starports having provided Star Fox a safe harbor to rearm and repair many times in the past. Instead of heading to the city's central starport, the carrier banked to the right in a relaxed turn, pointing the nose to the even more distant Fort Nyle. The fort was a large airbase, with a small military port added as an afterthought. Four gigantic runways down below sat mostly unused for their primary, original purpose. Now more for outdoor storage then anything else, as modern fighters and freighters no longer needed long stretches of open space. The Great Fox dropped in altitude as it approached the base's premier wall, shadowing the abandoned set of elevated magrail tracks sticking out of the lush forest below that once served the base, the rails being severed just before the wall long ago.

"_-Great Fox, this is Fort Nyle docking control. We've been expecting you. You are already cleared to land on pad 3. How copy?-"_

The fort's flight control came through the radio unexpectedly, Fox being rather used to contacting wherever they land at first, not docking control forcing railroading them into a preset pad. Still, Fox complied.

"Uh, good copy flight control. Proceeding to pad 3..."

ROB took the hint, banking the ship around to line up an optimal approach to the landing pad. Fox spotted it as the carrier neared, it being marked with a large '3' in a blocky font. The landing pads were near the base's main gate, with pad 3 being flanked by another five identical landing pads nearby. Ground activity was light, only a few trucks and other military vehicles navigating the service roads below. A single, boxy vehicle was waiting next to the road nearby Star Fox's assigned pad, no doubt waiting for them. Fox soon recognized it as a model of Cornerian army transport truck, complete with six wheels and and armored cab.

Fox sighed, hoping he could've just walked in and turned over the recorder without a fuss, but it seemed this Rickenbacker guy had other ideas. The Great Fox fired it's RCS, slowing the carrier and bringing it to a hover above the landing pad, lowering itself and touching down on it's landing gear. The main engines spooled down, the fading whine being replaced with relative silence as Fox got out of his command chair. Falco shot out of his seat right after Fox, the bird pacing over to him.

"Hey Fox... Uh, got a text from Katt. Says she wants ta' hang out for coffee or somthin'... You, uh, mind if I go?" Falco sheepishly asked, checking his phone.

Fox's expression shifted. "Katt? Haven't heard from her in a while, how's she doing?"

"Ehhh... Somethin' about freighter escort, guess she's stoppin' at Corneria before she leaves on another job."

Fox looked Peppy, the rabbit already heading to the door. They exchanged glances, with Peppy giving Fox a quick nod before heading down the hall, followed by Slippy.

"Well, if what you're saying is true..." Fox trailed off in thought, almost considering Fara's words. He quickly pushed the thought aside however. "...Yeah... Guess this is her only chance to hang out then. Yeah, go ahead, but just make sure you get back before we head off again."

Falco beamed. "Heh, thanks Foxy... Yeah, I'll catch the bus or somethin' if I really need to. Don' worry about me." The bird gave Fox a simple nod, and dashed out of the bridge. The vulpine watched his friend run off before turning around and gazing down at the airbase's command building.

"Alright, General... Let's see if Peppy's right about you..."

* * *

Star Fox walked off of the landing pad's cargo elevator, Fox himself stepping onto the paved surface of the base's vast, flat open areas. A cool ocean breeze swept over the team, Fox embracing the pleasant, moderate chill. It was almost refreshing, compared to the stale recycled air of the team's carrier. The smell of fuel and tarmac filled Fox's nose, carried by the breeze, forcing out a cough.

"Come on, get moving you furless bastard!"

Fox sighed, the pleasant silence being broken by Peppy's handing of the monkey they had captured a few days ago. Lrin was cuffed again, the hare doing his best to keep him moving forwards towards the awaiting convoy. Fox turned around, staring at the pirate, Lrin doing his best not to snicker.

"...You need help, Peppy?"

"No, no... I'm just glad we'll turn in this Venomian asshole soon enough..."

Peppy's voice was laced with venom as he gave the monkey another shove forwards. Fox paid it no mind, not really caring too much about the monkey himself anymore. The vupine's ears perked up at the sound of someone approaching. Fox turned around, only to be greeted by a Cornerian solider walking up to the team, blaster carbine held low and loose in his paws. He was dressed in the army's standard issue combat armor, light gray uniform and soft, metallic blue chest plate and helmet. Fox couldn't tell what exact species of canid he was, only seeing brown fur along his muzzle and face as he walked up.

"Ah, the Star Fox team..." He said, voice seemingly tired. "Welcome to Fort Nyle, Captain McCloud, I'm Sergeant Middlemutt..." Lrin snickered quietly, with Peppy giving him another shove. 'Middlemutt' was a common name on Corneria, but it was clear the monkey had different naming standards. "...I've been assigned to bring your team straight to General Rickenbacker... I take it you have the package?"

Fox's expression twisted, raising a brow. "...He told you about our mission?"

Middlemutt shook his head, waving a paw. "Nothing I didn't need to know, just that he needs something from you, something pretty important."

Reluctantly, Fox patted the side of the duffle bag slung over his shoulder, the boxy recorder making it's shape known through the bag. "...Yeah..." He mumbled, almost sneering. "We were supposed to meet General Pepper at the navy HQ originally. You wouldn't know why were rerouted?"

Middlemutt mumbled something, before shaking his head once again. "No, sorry. Last I heard, Pepper's on vacation with his family."

"Wait, on vacation?" Fox stuttered, voice coated in suspicion and curiosity. He didn't exactly believe Pepper would just flake on the meeting, especially considering how apparently critical this flight recorder was to him.

"Sorry." The solider answered, picking up on how unsettling the change of plans was to Fox. "All I know is that Rickenbacker hired you merc's for a mission a few days ago, something about getting a 'package' from the outer rim." Middlemutt put his fingers up for air quotes to emphasize his point further.

Fox sighed. "No... Pepper contracted us, I didn't even know who this Rickenbacker guy was until a few minutes ago!" He shot back, annoyed at the conflicting information solider was giving, either he just didn't know, or there was more to this than a simple drop-off.

Middlemut only shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know." He shifted his weight, and adjusted the optic on his carbine to appear busy before speaking again, while Fox only looked back, rather confused. "Uh... Right. Now, I need all five... Wait, where's Falco?"

"He said he needed to pick something up for a friend, it's pretty important." Fox lied through his teeth, thinking hanging out with friends wouldn't be a good enough excuse for the solider to buy. Falco had already taken the stairs from the pad, and was probably past or near the main gate by now, with any luck he'd get out without a fuss.

"Eh... Alright then, General won't be too happy, but that's not my problem." Middlemutt mumbled something to himself once again. "Now, can we please get moving? We're wasting our time here." He gestured to the army truck convoy waiting nearby with a thumb, engine still running and waiting to move. Fox quickly noticed the vehicle's lack of maintenance; patches of rust staining the body, chipped and faded Cornerian army paint job. All topped off with missing panels, exposing interior components to the elements. It was a strange sight to see, usually the army took good care of their vehicles and equipment, but this looked almost like something Fox would find at a salvage yard, not an established base.

"Yeah... Let's get this over with..."

The team followed the solider to the side of the truck, it having an enclosed troop bay instead of a cargo bed. Grabbing the door and swinging open, Middlemutt climbed up into the bay to find a seat. Fox followed the solider, lifting himself into the vehicle's dull interior. The troop bay's apparent furry musk invaded Fox's nose as soon as he planted his feet on the bay's floor, forcing himself to breath through his mouth to avoid the awful, wet smell. Fox found himself a seat across from Middlemutt, followed by Peppy and Lrin came inside soon after, the four of them finding seats in the vehicle's dark interior, with Slippy squeezed in right behind.

Middlemutt pounded a balled fist on the wall, signaling the driver to move out. The truck did so, pulling out from it's parking spot and driving to the base's main road that looped around the command center. The truck took a hard left, picking up speed and heading for the command building.

Fox took a bored glance out the window, seeing the airbase's usual operations proceeding as any other day. Fuel trucks traveling to and fro to service starfighters and atmospheric craft. Fox could see the single, full-length operational runway between more support buildings, with hangars storing giant atmospheric cargo planes further down. The truck pushed onward, approaching a large, blocky, angular building sitting near the center of the base. Brutalist architecture wasn't exactly Fox's first choice, but it's imposing stature over the rest of the base's modern, clean buildings gave him something to think about as the truck headed down a ramp leading to the building's underground.

The building stood like a small fortress, thick concrete and durasteel construction forming solid, near featureless walls of defense. The team's ride pulled up to a thick blast door blocking the road, it being more at home deep in a bunker rather than something outside. Middlemutt keyed his helmet radio shortly after the truck stopped.

"General, we're right outside the access tunnel, Fox has the package in his possession. He's also bought a possible bounty in, too."

Seconds past by, Fox still trying to avoid smelling the truck's furry musk, it was clear it hadn't been cleaned in ages.

Middlemutt's radio broke the silence, crackling to life. A new voice filled the musky truck, it's owner sounding rather annoyed with a thick Papetoonian accent. It wasn't uncommon to for people with the accent to think less of others, and this General was no exception.

"_-Well, it's about damn time. I'll order the door open and unlock the elevator shaft to the my meeting room, don't delay, Mutt.-"_

The line cut, with the blast doors ahead slowly rolling open. Fox was left to ponder why this Rickenbacker guy managed to sound rather snobbish, even the hardest higher-ups in the Army didn't act quite on the level he did. The truck lurched forward into the tunnel, it's yellow ceiling lights quickly replacing Lylus's soft glow, darkening the truck's interior. Shadows flashed inside as the vehicle drove along, with some of the lights no longer functioning, another thing Fox found strange considering the Army's usual good care for their equipment. Even Slippy seemed to notice, with him piping up for the first time since they landed.

"Uh, Sergeant, w-why is your guy's equipment kind of... Well, I-I'm seeing a few things that seem to not be m-maintained too well..." The toad stuttered out, it having been a problem for him when talking to strangers.

Middlemutt only shrugged. "From what I hear, the base isn't as well-funded as some of the others."

Peppy picked up on it too. "Doesn't make any sense; this is one of the largest airbases round' the Capital, and it ain't funded much? No, I think the answer's a bit deeper then that, Sergeant."

The dog didn't respond verbally, only sighing with another shrug as if his world view was being challanged. Saving him from answering further, the truck slowed, pulling off the main road and stopping in an unloading zone, recessed into the side of tunnel.

"Alright, this is your guy's stop. Elevator to his meeting room is on the right, good luck with him." The dog mumbled to the team. "Oh, leave the prisoner with me, you'll get his bounty after we run him through. Might take a bit though, bureaucracy and all that."

Reluctantly, Peppy let go of the Monkey's left arm, with Lrin not capitalizing on the fact he wasn't being held.

"I ain't got a bounty, old man."

"Like it makes a difference right now..." Peppy grumbled, reaching for the door and swing it open. The tunnel's cold air gave Fox another chill as he followed Peppy. Slippy climbed out, with the truck gunning it's engine and speeding off with a squeal of it's tires. It disappeared around a bend in the tunnel soon after, leaving the three alone.

The floor of the tunnel was rough and unpolished, occasional patches of dirt and cracks mixed in.

"Man, feels like we're miles deep, not just in a basement..." Fox commented to himself as he looked around for the elevator. It was sitting recessed in the wall just as the Sergeant had said, it's twin doors open and elevator already waiting behind.

"Well, better not keep this guy waiting..." Fox mumbled quietly, still unsure what to expect.

The three team members boarded the lift, doors quickly snapping shut as soon as they were all inside. The vulpine noticed the lift's almost lavish interior, compared to the rest of the base with it's polished wood floor and carpeted walls, it was something Fox would find in a nice hotel, not a bunker. It was odd seeing it's rather pristine condition compared to the rest of the base, adding on more questions for this General when the team met him.

* * *

The doors rolled open, with an automated, soft female voice. _"Command bunker floor..."_

"Damn thing's like a amusement park ride..." The hare uttered to himself complaining about the elevator's speed, stepping out into the hall after Fox. The bunker's usual concrete was replaced with pristine, white wall panels, with clean overhead lighting, none of them flickering; a far cry from the base's condition above ground, and Middlemutt's comment on lack of funding. Fox felt like he was more on a starliner than a bunker, one probably couldn't tell they were deep underground if they weren't told.

The hallway let straight from the elevator to a door at the other end, seeing no other intimidate options, approached the door. The large brutish, pair of blast doors sitting before them, it being secured with large durasteel beams lain across the front. The General's voice came over a hidden loudspeaker, as the team approached, still using his irritable tone from before.

"_Well... if it isn't the Star Fox team... Ah, I suppose I haven't properly introduced myself..."_ His tone changed again, with a more prideful undertone. _"I am General Bernard Rickenbacker, commanding officer of Fort Nyle... An admittedly, boring position of power, but, my..."_ He paused, thinking of the right word. Fox narrowed his eyes, disdain for Bernard already growing. _"..Soldiers, are loyal... Ah, anyways, do you have the recorder, retrieved from the ill-fated Pathfinder?"_

"...Yeah..." Fox murmured, clutching the bag tighter with his paw. "It's right here with me..."

"_Hmm... Adequate performance, as to be expected from a Mercenary, but, nonetheless... Oh, I'll need you to surrender your weapons before I let you into the command room proper, you'll get them back on the way out... I'm sure you understand, security, and all..."_

"I'm not going anywhere without my blast-" Fox began to protest, but the audible sound of the General literally hanging up the receiver cut him off. The vulpine let out a small growl as the blast door began to part open. The large beams mounted in front of the thick door slowly retracted into the walls, grinding on their hydraulics as they pulled back. The two halves of the main door slowly parted open vertically soon after, Fox peered into the gap, seeing a smaller room with another door, both sided guarded by heavily armed, and armored Cornerian soldiers. Both shot back at Fox with a glare, one adjusting his heavy blaster rifle, thumbing the safety. Fox, confused, sheepishly tried to return the look, still puzzled why they'd be on edge at the sight of Fox and his team. Ultimately deciding on wanting to leave as soon as possible, the vulpine approached the two. Before the pilot could open his mouth, the solider on the left spoke up, voice gruff.

"You three mercs need to turn in your weapons, otherwise, you're not going anywhere." He spat, putting extra emphasis on 'mercs' with a disdainful tone.

The vulpine, not wanting to prolong his stay, reluctantly compiled. "...Here..." Fox grumbled, pulling his pistol out of his holster and handing it to the dog's open paw. "I better get that back..."

He stood off to the side, gesturing to his team to do the same with a thumb. Peppy sighed, turning his own gun in for the moment.

"...And the one on your ankle, Hare..."

The rabbit laughed. "Ha! Like you know I have one there!"

"I know you have a spare firearm, _merc... _The general knows more about you all then you think..."

"Well that's just peachy, isn't it?" Peppy glared back, placing a paw on his hip.

The second solider slowly thumbed off his rifle's safety, trying to be discrete. Fox noticed the dog out of the corner of his eye already being ready to escalate the situation, and shot Peppy a look. Fox was still curious as to why the soldiers were ready to get violent so soon; disdain between Star Fox and the navy was still a real thing, but it was rarely more then an inconvenience. These two, however...

"Peppy, we're not going to get very far with this guy if we're having arguments with his personal guards... Just drop it, please."

The hare grumbled, but complied. Slowly reaching down to his leg and uncovering the hidden blaster pistol holstered just above his ankle. He handed it off to the guard, getting a small smirk out of the dog as he placed it on a nearby table along with the other two pistols.

"Aren't you going to search Slippy?" Fox asked, looking to the team's sidearms, sitting helpless. The toad's expression soured, having enjoyed not having to converse with anyone on the base so far.

"Nah, I know he doesn't carry one; besides, what's he going to do with one? Freak out and shoot a wall?" The other guard let out a small chuckle, flicking his rifle's safety back on.

"Well, that settles it then, head on through. He's waiting for you, Fox, in the conference room..."

Fox strolled into the large, ornate room with the rest of this team trailing behind. Extravagant wooden walls covered up the bunker's bleak concrete, with a large, wooden conference table sitting dead-center. Each side of the room decorated with paintings of other famous Cornerian military personnel, some being high-ranking officials, with others being batted-hardened infantry. Fox recognized a few of them, but one in particular stood out among the others.

The vulpine glared at the painting of none other than the late _Captain Shears. _The Captain's smug grin and sunglasses just as Fox had remembered them, along with his green, spotless Captain's uniform.

"Ah,The late Shears... I know you had a... History with him, didn't you?"

Fox quickly spun his view around in the direction of the voice, it being rather similar to the voice over the intercom earlier, sounding like it was for someone more highbrow than it belonged to. Fox saw who he presumed was the General, a tall German Sheppard with a gray uniform like the one Pepper wore, minus the color and medals.

"You're Rickenbacker, I'm guessing?"

"I am indeed. And I'm assuming you have what I'm asking for?" The dog added an intense glare, almost as if trying to bore into Fox's head with eyes alone.

"Didn't we already tell you? Twice?"

"Of course you did, but I'd like to hear it from you, in person..."

Fox hid an eyeroll, swinging the bag onto the table and fishing out the ship's FDR, placing the device onto the wooden furniture with a hefty _thunk_. The General approached Fox, turning to the device and looking it over. He rubbed a paw over it's boxy edges, admiring it's battered and worn exterior casing. After what seemed like a full minute of the dog metaphorically salivating over the device, Fox cleared his throat in attempt to grab the General's attention.

"Uh... General, are we going to talk about our reward? The mission to get this thing back wasn't exactly easy..."

The General didn't react to Fox's question, still admiring the flight recorder and mumbling something to himself. The vulpine leaned slightly forward, close enough to just barely hear scraps of his voice, but not enough for him to notice.

"...I'll find you... you freak..." The dog's mumbling was almost frantic, yet quiet.

_Huh? Who is he talking about?_ Yet again, the vulpine found himself with more questions then answers, adding to the pile of questions that he wasn't sure he'd ever get real answers for.

"Excuse me, General?" Fox tried to cut into the dog's own little world of him and the device. It seemed to work, startling the General and yanking his attention from the recorder. The dog growled at Fox, shoving a finger in his face.

"You'd do well to not disturb me, Fox." He sneered, Fox wanting to mumble something about the General's lack of professionalism that was to be expected with his position, but decided against it. "...But yes... I'll arrange for payment to be transferred to your account, McCloud. But fist, I need answers from you."

"About?"

Rickenbacker got straight to the point. "The Pathfinder... Did you happen to secure a cargo manifest? It was carrying weapons, as you probably know. I'd just like to confirm a few things about it's contents before you leave."

Fox thought back briefly, but didn't remember actually taking anything off the ship himself; it was Falco who actually recovered the recorder. "No, sorry, we weren't looking for anything other then the FDR."

"...And Pepper didn't tell you to retrieve it?"

"Nope, he only asked for the recorder, but I think he said he'd send his own people to recover was was left."

The dog balled his fists, eyes going wide. "That son of a... When did he say they'd leave?"

Fox stepped back, somewhat taken back by the General's reaction. "He didn't give me an exact date, but within the week at least... Why are you so worried about them finding it? Something I don't know?" Fox pressed further, inquisitively.

The dog waved him off. "No, no ...I'd just like to secure those weapons as soon as possible, with them all being Cornerian property... Don't want them in the wrong hands, I'm sure you understand."

"Right..."

The general looked to the recorder briefly, the device still sitting on the wooden table undisturbed, then back to Fox.

"Well, that's all I need you for, you're all dismissed."

Fox gave the dog one last gaze, still unsure what to think about the general or his strange behavior. "Uh, yeah, thanks... Come on guys, let's get some lunch."

Fox headed for the door, walking past the two guards and recovering his pistol from the table, with Peppy doing the same. The three headed for the elevator once again, Fox thinking about grabbing a warm bagel from some cafe in the city, hoping to never set foot in the base again.

* * *

The vulpine and his team stepped off the shuttle bus, it having a stop within walking distance to the landing pads. The Great Fox's majestic hull stood out among the two navy corvettes that had taken the free pads adjacent to the carrier, it's silver and white metals almost shining next to the gray armor of the other two. "Let's get moving; I'm not sure I'm willing to pay the docking fee they set up just for us."

With collective agreement, the three approached the pad's elevator. Just as Fox was about to step aboard, the squeal of tires on pavement and the thundering roar of an engine got the mercenaries's attention. A large Cornerian APC had came to a halt behind the team, it's black skid marks clearly visible behind the bulky vehicle. The rear troop ramp dropped with a loud _clang_, followed by a small squad of military police. The group approached Fox and his team, blaster carbines all pointed at him.

The dog in the front, presumably the squad leader began to yell. "Paws where I can see em', traitor!"

"W-what the hell are you guys on about? Traitor?" Fox stumbled over his words, confused at being held at gunpoint by a faction he thought he could trust.

"Paws up, I won't ask again, McCloud." The MP barked back, no longer yelling, but still hardly using a friendly tone.

Fox rolled his eyes, still confused. "Fine... What about my team?"

"The general only wants you, but the Great Fox stays here; you're not taking it anywhere, anytime soon. You two try anything, and we'll shoot you down."

"Like hell you are! What's Fox have to with all this?" Peppy shot back. "We gave your armchair general the recorder just as he asked, that not good enough for him?"

"It would've been, if all the data on it wasn't _wiped clean_."

"That's bullshit! We didn't touch the damn thing's internals!"

"Yeah, well, the data would still be there if you hadn't." The dog countered, Peppy not knowing how to respond in a meaningful way. The hare resorting to only glaring at the guard. Slippy hadn't even bothered to say anything, not that it would've mattered anyways.

"I'm going to need a better explanation for why I'm being arrested. We didn't touch the recorder, so something's up with whatever your general is using to read it." Fox replied, knowing it never left his sight after he woke up. "He's going to be pretty damn disappointed when he finds out it's probably just a technical issue on his end."

"_Someone close, a friend... Isn't planning on being truthful to you..."_

Fara's ghostly words, and the realization at what had actually happened hit him like a freight train, his head going dizzy in panic at the notion. He'd never thought he'd be outright betrayed by his friend like this. They'd had their issues in the past, involving his old gang years ago, but even that had a good outcome. This though, was something else entierly.

"No... No... Not Falco..."


	7. Chapter 7

Fox let out a pained grunt as he was shoved forward into the General's command room, almost losing his footing on the carpet as he stumbled. He was still cuffed, now behind his back to hinder whatever futile attempt he could make to escape, not that he could get past the guards, anyways.

"Back so soon, Fox?" The dog lightly chuckled, slowly approaching the tod with arms crossed and eyes glaring, his small smile not matching with the rest of his angry expression.

"Very funny... You mind telling me what the hell this is all about?" Fox rebutted, internally cursing himself; he knew the General was unhinged, and teasing him wouldn't get Fox very far.

"Oh, I don't need to tell you, I just need to show..."

Rickenbacker approached the room's large conference table, the FDR and a military army-green laptop sitting idle to it's wooden surface, a wire plugged in and hooked up between the two devices. The general spun the laptop around, it's screen open up to the recorder's internal storage application, with it's data readouts completely blank.

"As you know, McCloud, this box is designed to record a ship's various significant flight parameters, engine performance, things like that... Now, this particular military model can also store classified mission data, things only the Captain has access too, you know?"

"...Yeah."

"Now, here's the problem." The dog's voice was becoming increasingly strained, as if he was building up to a yelling fit. "...This recorder, for some reason, is blank. You mind telling me why, seeing how you were only one of four people to have access to it after the Pathfinder's untimely destruction?"

"Uh..."

"Because if you don't, McCloud... Well, let's just say your team will miss you dearly, understood?"

"Fine." Fox hesitantly grumbled, not sure if the dog had heard him. "I didn't touch the thing myself, you probably know we're running short on credits, and wiping the data or whatever wouldn't be a great idea financially. Plus, you know me and Pepper have a lot of history between us, and me just betraying him like you think I did with you doesn't make sense."

"Get to the point, McCloud." The dog grumbled, patience wearing thin.

"It doesn't make sense that your blaming me for all of this; I was unconscious for the trip back to Corneria anyways, so I couldn't really keep the thing safe."

"Were you the one who found it initially?"

"No, Falco did."

"And where is he now, hmm?"

Fox already knew his friend was probably responsible for the recorder's lack of data, but the General was already narrowing down possible suspects, and Fox's feathered friend was next in line.

"...Said he needed to do something in the city, something important." Fox half-lied, only giving the dog a vague direction for Falco's whereabouts, Fox wasn't even sure if the bird was in the city anyways at this point.

"More important than this meeting? I don't buy it."

"Sorry, that's where he went." The tod only shrugged, not really sure what the dog would do or say next.

"We're not done here, McCloud; what about the rest of your team? Surely you didn't go in at half-"

"-It was only me and Falco." Fox interjected, the dog's face scrunching up into a frown. "Besides; he'd have no reason to steal the data anyways, we haven't looked inside it so neither of us know what's on it, obviously." Fox retorted back. He remembered Falco finding something related to the recorder's data before he set off security somehow, but couldn't quite place a finger on what it was exactly. Telling the unhinged General wouldn't earn him any points anyways.

"That changes nothing, McCloud. _Somebody _had to have tampered with it, and as I've said, you and your team were the last ones in possession of it. I only have four-er, three suspects to narrow it down too, and that damn bird running off as soon as you land is mighty suspicious, don't you agree?"

"To someone like you, yeah, I can see that. But didn't it ever occur to you that someone on the Pathfinder's crew have someone to do with it? Fox raised an eyebrow, pressing the question further. The dog's expression contorted slightly, he'd probably already considered the possibility. "Or is that too much work to start investigating a dead crew, and we're an easy scapegoat for you?"

Instead of yelling back as Fox expected him too, the dog only grumbled something inaudible under his breath. He spoke after a few seconds of thought, probably thinking of a way to realistically keep the blame pinned on Star Fox.

"Very well... We're done here, you'll be escorted to a cell on-base until we figure out what to do with you."

"I-uh, what? You can't do that, you haven't proven that we've done anything!" Fox franticly protested, starting to panic. The dog's face contorted into a snarl, balling his paws into fists and breathing through his nose. He glared down at the vulpine, eyes like daggers stabbing into Fox's very soul.

"Can't do that? Can't, do that?" The General seethed, slowly approaching Fox. "I am well within my rights to detain you, I don't need to prove anything yet..."

The vulpine could tell he was building up to a yell, the dog's fists almost quivering in sheer anger.

"You, Fox McCloud, are under arrest for breaching your government contract, and espionage!" The dog was now practically spitting in his face, waving a finger.

"What? Falco probably ran off with it, I didn't do anything!"

"Even if your furry ass is innocent, you're still damn responsible for him, McCloud! Do you have any idea what will happen if he leaks that data, if that thug hasn't already?! The entire Lylat system is going to be turned upside down, and the public will want Pepper's head on a damn platter!"

"Wh-what? Why?" Fox sputtered, not buying the fact that Pepper would do something deserving of such an act.

"Oh, you probably already know don't you? No, I'm done talking to you, McCloud. Gentlemen, please cuff and escort our guest, remove him from my meeting room."

Pretty much on cue, the door leading to the hallway slid open, with the General's two personal guards stormed in, weapons drawn and pointed at the vulpine's face.

"Make this easy for us McCloud." One said, holding the barrel of his heavy blaster level. "Come quietly, and we won't need to get rough." The other solider flicked off his safety just like before, not completely trusting Fox to do the right thing.

The tod rolled his eyes. "I'm already cuffed, not like I could feasibly escape, you know..."

"Whatever, get moving McCloud."

"...Damnit, fine."

Reluctantly, Fox marched over to the two soldiers, one grabbing his right arm and the other leading. He turned to face the General one last time, receiving a smug look back before the closing door blocked line of sight.

Richard gently maneuvered the Cornerian shuttle above it's designated landing pad, the station's clean air providing for the craft's intakes; the shuttle carried air-breathing engines along with it's liquid methane-fueled conventional thrusters. The husky brought the ship to a slow hover, applying vertical thrust to slowly set down the ship. With landing gear unfolded and lowered, the shuttle finally set itself down, being the first time it had been landed anywhere since the ill-fated Pathfinder.

Richard unbuckled his flight harness, taking a deep breath in, relieved to finally be somewhere that could provide refuge from the uncaring void of space. Nora did the same soon after, waking up to the door perpendicular to the troop bay leading outside into Port Arknez's docking hub. Richard noticed the fox, eager to leave the confines of the dropship. He cleared his throat to grab her attention, putting his paw up.

"Hold up, Lieutenant... Few things you should know about this place before we head outside..."

Nora turned her fluffy head, giving the husky her full attention. "Yes?"

"Well, as you could probably guess, Arknez isn't exactly what I'd call... Welcoming, to Cornerians. Long story short, a few years back after this place was built, there was an issue with the station's local leadership. Being so far out, they decided to declare independence during the war. A navy detachment moved in, things got bloody, and a good few innocent people got caught in the crossfire."

"I-I didn't know..."

"Few did, navy kept in under wraps best it could for a few years, but when word got out people just seemed to blame it more on the war then anything else.

Nora simply nodded, with a small sign of sorrow across her face; She knew Corneria wasn't perfect, but to hear about the incident seemed to harm their image even in her eyes as somewhat of a loyalist. Reality cared not for her soured mood however, with Richard grabbing the door's latch and pulling it down, releasing the locking system and allowing it to swing open.

The station's stale-tasting, but flowing air attacked Nora's nose as she stepped outside behind Richard, the sights and sounds of Arknez's gigantic vaguely cylindrical docking bay looming overhead and pretty much everywhere else was a sight to behold. Ships of almost every classification, manufacture and size filled the open space, some arriving and settling down on landing pads, with others leaving for parts unknown. Nora couldn't help but watch for a few moments, focusing her view on a large freighter and it's fighter escort depart the station.

"Eyes forward Lieutenant, we're not here to sightsee." Richard's voice cut into the fox's trance, snapping her back to the reality of the situation. She could probably spend hours watching the ship traffic, being easily fascinated by starships since she was a kit.

"Right, yes sir."

The two Cornerians made their way to the central walkway connecting the smaller landing pads, eventually leading to a small security checkpoint. The pads were built into a grid pattern, with their shuttle being one of many smaller craft to have landed. A few other ships Nora could easily recognize for them being common models, with others being more custom-engineered or heavily modified by their owners, adding additional armor, subsystems or weapons depending on it's purpose. The few with custom 'paintjobs' only added to the sense of identity some craft had.

The two passed by a few of the station's residents as they walked, drawing strange and sometimes dirty looks from passerby's along the walkway. Most seemed to be a healthy mixture of Venomians, with a few lupines added in. Richard saw few, if any of Cornerian-looking canids could be seen, definitely one of the station's minorities, he thought. A rather shifty-looking wolf sat on a stack of small cargo containers off to the side, chewing what Nora presumed was gum by the pack on the crate next to him. The lupine shot a glare at her, his dirty coat of brown fur becoming more apparent, along with his grimy trench coat over a black flight suit. The fox averted her eyes, gripping the carbine's shoulder strap firmer, looking for some sort of comfort in the gun's presence.

"Better watch yourselves here, I'd reckon you two already know why." The wolf said, looking Richard in the eye, the husky only returning a firm nod.

The walk to the security checkpoint was mostly uneventful, save for the occasional glare. They reached the small structure that Richard could loosely call a fortification, it being little more then a glorified gate. Two armed guards manned the checkpoint, along with a small sentry gun set up on the deck. The guard on the left immediately noticed them, thanks to the two's Cornerian uniforms.

"Ohho, what do we have here?" The armed simian chuckled, approaching the two canids. Nora could easily pick up his foul breath as he spoke. "Some Cornerians huh? Heh, can't say we get anybody like you comin' out here, too far away from that cozy Navy a' yours I guess. Tell me, what business do you two got here? Can't be anything too major, I'd bet; You didn't show up with a small fleet again, just that shuttle."

Richard thought for a moment before responding, thinking about what little he knew about Arknez's local customs. It amounted to little, other then it's manufacturing-based economy.

"You'd be correct, we're..." He chose his next words carefully, not wanting to reveal where they had came from exactly "...Our patrol frigate ran out of supplies on the trip back to Papetoon, so I, along with her... Uh, volunteered to make the trip here." It was only a half-lie, but he still wasn't sure if the simian would buy the story.

"Ehhhh..." The simian looked Richard up and down, seeing his Captain's uniform and it's current worn condition, along with Nora's. "...Not sure if I really believe that..."

"We're not looking for trouble, we're only here for supplies and fuel for the shuttle, nothing more." The husky asked, not wanting to really argue on the point. The less time spent here the better.

"Well... Can't say I really trust you, bein' Cornerian and all... But..." The guard looked over to his comrade, receiving a strange look from the grey-furred fox. "...Fine, talk to my partner over there, he'll get you through into Arknez proper, I guess..."

Richard nodded a silent thanks, slowly approaching the second guard. The fox quickly motioned for him to stop, pointing to the husky's revolver.

"Hand me that thing; I'll need to switch out it's ammunition load, otherwise you fire that in here and there's no telling what you'll hit. Might puncture a fuel line or a generator, then you'll _really _have something to worry about, Cornerian."

"Ah... Fair point, didn't intend to use it anyways..."

"Right..." The fox mumbled, tone mocking. "Doesn't matter, I'll exchange it, first time's free luckily for you."

Richard pulled the gun from it's holster, careful not to point it at the guard or finger the trigger. The fox swiped it from his hands with a distrustful look, setting it down on a nearby table.

".357 magnum, right?"

"Yeah."

The vulpine leaned down, grabbing a green crate from underneath the table, setting it down with a weighty_ thunk_. He undid the latches holding it closed, and began fishing around for what Richard presumed was ammo.

"...What happened 'last time'? As you put it?" Nora piped up, watching the fox dig for the correct caliber.

"Ah... Some guy brought something large-caliber aboard a few months back, got himself into a firefight at one of our solar refineries. Hit something he shouldn't have, window or something... Long story short... Ah, there it is." The fox reached out of the crate, placing six new rounds next to the gun. In a practiced motion, he swung out the cylinder, quickly exchanging the magnum rounds tipped with a plaster-like substance, along with a smaller propellant charge. It would be more then enough to drop a soft target, but with less risk of collateral damage.

He handed back the gun to Richard, pocketing the regular rounds. "You'll get these when you get back, they're not going anywhere. The vixen with her carbine is fine, just adjust the focus lens."

Nora hastily nodded, not wanting to converse with the vulpine any more then she had too, occupying her time by doing what he ordered by adjusting a small switch nearby the weapon's trigger.

"Alright, I can't guarantee you'll be safe on our streets for obvious reasons... So, watch each other's backs, I guess... Or don't, can't say I really care enough."

"...Thanks."

"Get outta' here, you're clear to head on through."

Richard nodded once again, him and Nora quickly passing through the security field, and made their way down the stairs leading from the small pad down to 'street' level. The station's inner docking bay was large enough to house small apartment blocks and other scaled-down buildings, some being built during Arknez's initial construction, while others being thrown together out of second or third-hand materials. Nonetheless, the small 'city' the station housed was far from uniform in layout or almost anything else, really.

Richard set a foot on ground level, the worn metal floor showing off it's years of use and wear. Arknez wasn't exactly what one would call lawless, but openly carrying firepower certainly deterred anyone from trying anything.

Nora stepped down on the deck behind the husky, scanning the street left and right with only her vision. The sector of Arknez they had been directed to was sparsely populated, with the smaller shuttle pads acting only as big parking spots.

The station's street was home to only a few vendors and shops, some built into specialized shipping containers, with others being little more then carts with signs. Despite the visual chaos and clutter of Arknez, one thing stood out as one of the few standardized items the two could see: Wind chimes. Some being ones Nora could find at her grandmother's house, made of polished metal and wood ornaments, with others being little more then strips of metal held together by wire. The station's wind current would blow the devices around as it flowed like a rive through the streets, producing a multitude of sounds as the chimes knocked and clanged together. They seemed to be everywhere, hung from pipes, doorways, power conduit; nearly everywhere that would be a convenient spot to hang one.

"We have any idea where we're headed, Captain?"

Richard sighed, looking around for any sort of direction or signs, coming up with little. "Well... It's easily another two days of flight time to Papetoon, so food and fuel's our only priority. Getting really sick of eating those fruit bars anyways, I say we get something real to eat before anything though." Richard was usually one to call his subordinates by rank first, but judging the current situation, it just seemed pointless for the moment.

"Yeah... Uh, yessir..."

Her superior waved Nora off as the two proceeded down the street, the scenery and sounds remaining largely unchanged as they went. Nora figured they wouldn't need to walk far to find some sort of bar or restaurant; any sort of establishment that served some sort of warm meal was all she cared about, not being picky for anything in-

The sound of someone running up behind her snapped her attention away from food, quickly turning her head around to see a small vulpine running up behind them. Before Nora could say anything, the fox collided with Nora's back, with the assailant grabbing for her blaster carbine. The lieutenant reacted quickly, swinging out her right arm in attempt to hit the smaller fox in the face, holding the gun's strap with her left paw.

_Thunk_

The back of Nora's right paw smacked him square in his left eye, the stun of being hit so suddenly toppling him over. Without thinking, Nora brought the weapon to bear on the grounded vulpine, who currently resided face-up on the deck plating in a daze. Richard drew his own gun, keeping it at the ready should someone try and capitalize on the moment.

"Ahhh..." The fox moped, clutching the region on his face where Nora had struck him. "...What an asshole..."

"Don't move." Nora hissed, taking a closer look at the fallen vulpine. He seemed to be an arctic like her judging by his dirty coat of white fur, but had dyed his tuft of messy hair bright red, along with the tip of his tail. His clothes weren't in much better shape either.

"I don't know who you are kid, but I'd recommend not trying that again." The husky confronted, receiving a look of pure hate in return, the fox narrowing his eyes and showing teeth.

"Screw you..."

Richard sighed, looking down at him. "Get out of here kid, go find someone else to mug. That lifestyle of yours is gonna catch up with you, someday."

The fox didn't seem to know how to respond, Nora almost seeing the mental gears turning in his mind. Perhaps part of him knew Richard was right, and that it was only a matter of time before someone didn't take too kindly to his lifestyle. He only continued to glare in the meantime, slowly picking himself off the deck and beginning to walk away.

"I'm already sick of this place, let's find some food, Nora."

* * *

The walls of McCloud's cell seemed to hold an oppressive atmosphere as he kept glancing at them, not having ever gotten quite used to them. The solid concrete walls slightly reminding him of a certain drainage tunnel, but much less cold. He sighed, idly swinging his legs as he sat on the cell's small wall-mounted cot, it just being slightly too small for him, not that he planned on sleeping here for long anyways.

"Damnit Falco..."

Despite his friend's clear involvement and his partial responsibly for Fox's current situation, he couldn't bring himself to be entirely mad at the bird, more incredibly annoyed for doing things the way he did. Fox was still puzzled as to what he saw, whatever it was to make the bird take things this far.

"_It can't be just flight data he saw, that wouldn't do... This. No, there's way more to it then that! ...Then what? Classified orders? Was it carrying something it shouldn't be? Something in Vega they found? Damnit, it could be anything!"_

Fox balled a paw, squeezing until it almost hurt his skin. _"Did he just go rouge? Was someone forcing his hand, or paying him more then I ever could? ...No, that doesn't sound like him, I know he used to have a gang, but why would they be involved? They seemed too-small time for something like this..."_

Fox quickly became frustrated at his pondering yielding no result; He just didn't know enough for the time being. Too many unknowns.

"_At least I know what I'm doing when I get out..."_

Fox's ears and attention perked up at the sound of someone approaching his cell, walking down the hallway of the small cell block kept in a far corner of the command building. The vulpine's cell was at the end of the row, giving whoever was approaching a longer trip. He only heard a single pair of footsteps, so he figured it was one of the guards he'd quickly grown to dislike even after only a few hours of being stuck here.

He doubted it was one of his other team members too, Fox didn't think Slippy would stray very far from wherever Peppy went anyways, and there was little chance he'd be being let out by now anyways.

The footsteps grew closer, Fox recognizing the sound as belonging to combat boots on the tile floor, definitely a guard.

"Alright McCloud, here's lunch for ya'... Hope you like bread and veggies', heh."

The guard walked into view, him being a rather plain, almost generic Conerian canid. His helmet and forest-green body armor covered up most of his features, but Fox noticed his small floppy ears and short muzzle. Held in both paws was a metal tray, topped with some sort of brown mush that Fox hoped was bread, alongside a side dish of green matter.

"...That's what you're feeding me?" Fox grimaced, looking at the tray's contents, stomach beginning to turn.

"Yeah, you gotta' problem with it?"

"...I guess not..."

With a taunting grin, the dog placed the tray on the ground, giving it a push to slide across the ground under the door and into Fox's cell. The sound it made was more akin to someone's claws on an old chalkboard as it delivered it's payload of mush to the vulpine.

Fox didn't even bother picking it up, trying to force the thought of eating it out of his head best he could. "I'll eat it later..."

"No, you're going to eat it now, and I'm not leaving until you do. General's direct orders." The dog said, adding a taunting smile as he did so.

"...Seriously?"

"Yep."

Almost as if to torment the vulpine more, the guard pulled up an old plastic chair, sliding it in from a place against the wall outside of Fox's view. The dog happily plopped down, crossing his legs and relaxing; he was clearly planning to actually sit and wait.

"_You gotta be kiding me..."_

Fox hadn't noticed it before, but the guard had leaned his carbine against the wall next to him, probably having pulled it off his back. Eying the gun for a second, Fox looked down to his 'meal', reluctantly picking the tray off the floor. Carefully, he gave the brown mass a poke with his claw. Expecting to see it deflate with a rush of foul bread-air escaping, he was almost pleasantly surprised the loaf held it's shape.

"_Well, it can't be **that** bad..."_

Not wanting to prolong his exposure to the slightly disgusting loaf, Fox quickly wolfed it down, shoving it into his maw and sallowing it before he could taste too much. Thankfully, it went down his throat without issue, his stomach might not agree with it later though.

"_Guess I've had worse..."_

He turned his attention to the green matter remaining on the tray, the guard having called it a vegetable. His stomach immediately churned at the thought of eating the horrid green mass, looking like a mixture of various plat matter mashed into a paste. He'd seen the stuff before, compressed and packed into military rations, but those were significantly less gut-wrenching then what sat before him. He _wouldn't_ be eating it.

The guard seemed to notice Fox only staring down at his food. "Hey, you're gonna finish that."

"...Fine..."

The vulpine grimaced, grabbing the fork and stabbing the green, pulpy mass. Trying to eat it faster then he could think about it's taste, Fox quickly shoveled a few lumps of the food into his mouth, sallowing as fast as he could.

"_Slippy's cooking is better then this crap, and that's not counting the time he set the kitchen on fire..."_

Fox set the fork down, sliding the tray back to the guard while trying to hold back a gag, concentrating on anything but the food he didn't even finish.

With a smirk upon seeing Fox's distress with the food, the guard snatched up the tray, throwing his rifle over his shoulder in preparation to leave.

"Heh, not too bad, I hope?"

Fox could only mumble under his breath, the guard walking away with merely a chuckle. He was soon out of sight, the door at the end of the hallway sliding open to let him leave.

"I've gotta get out of here..."

With a sigh, Fox retreated back to the cell's small cot, it being slightly too short for the vulpine's full hight. Just another reason to leave, Fox supposed. McCloud leaned down, placing his paws behind his head, trying to find any resemblance of comfort the tiny bed had to offer.

He wouldn't admit it just yet, but every minute Fox spent locked up the more dire his situation became. Every minute wasted here was another the General could use, Fox wasn't sure what for, but it was without a doubt unpleasant. He closed his eyes, pondering about how Slippy and Peppy were doing, and where they were. Falco's actions overtook any pleasant memories Fox managed to dredge up to occupy himself. Only furthering the mystery as to why he had gone and left.

The heavy feeling of drowsiness crept up unexpectedly after only a few minutes of lying down. He hadn't done much today; Certainly not enough to make himself tired. The feeling persisted, only growing stronger as the minutes wore on.

"...Dammit..."

With a long sigh, Fox surrendered himself to sleep, lying on his side to try and get comfortable however he could. The cell thankfully wasn't cold, at least. Deciding he would formulate a plan when he woke up, Fox shut his eyes once again, drifting off into the land of sleep less then a minute later.

* * *

_**BZZZT**_

Fox groaned, rolling over on the bed. Whatever had disturbed him only seemed to be temporary.

_**BZZZT**_

There it was again, the same noise. Fox tried yet again to fall back into prison-dreamland, but once again it persisted.

_**BZZZT**_

Forcing his eyes open once again, Fox found his surroundings and his cell cast in the dark.

"...Huh?"

_**BZZZT**_

The noise repeated itself, it's possible origin becoming clearer. It sounded electrical, like current skipping a gap between wires.

_**BZZZT**_

The room was instantly washed back into the dim light Fox had remembered before falling asleep. He turned his head before the cell went dark again.

The sound played again, with the lights flickering on once again.

"Can't even sleep in this place..."

Letting out a long, drowsy growl. Picking himself off the cot as the lights went out once again. He wasn't sure what to do, now that sleep was probably off of Fox's diminishing options table. Curiously, Fox approached the bars, quickly seeing the _only_ light flashing in the hallway just happened to be in front of his cell.

"You gotta be-"

The light cut out again, Fox's face contorting into an expression of suspicion as he quickly realized something.

The flashing was _consistent, _down to the second.

Unless this was an actual electrical failure for his light and his alone, something, or someone was controlling current to the sole light.

The bulb flickered on once again, this time staying on after the previously consistent time it flashed before.

"...Hello?"

The light persisted for a few more seconds, then dimming itself. It started flashing, starting to slowly pulsate in light level. It repeated itself five times in short bursts, then seemed to pause.

"The hell?"

The light began flashing again, four short flashes, then followed by a longer one.

"Oh no..."

Fox picked up on what it was doing; Fighter signal code. It was a nearly analog method of long-range communication, mainly used between starfighters and other navy vessels as an emergency in case radio between ships was down. Simply put, it was little more then repeated patterns of flashing lights, Fox had learned the basics of it in his Academy days but never expected to really use it, let alone see it here.

The wall light flashed again, preforming three short pulses, then two long.

Fox knew what to expect from the light's pattern, but certainly not what would happen after it reached one.

"_I'd better not see a single-credit bill come out of the wall..."_

The light continued it's pattern, Fox wishing he could prepare better for whatever was about to come next. Seconds later, the last pattern Fox knew meant _one_ came and went.

With a mechanical whine, the bolts holding the cell door simply retracted by themselves, followed by the door sliding open to the side under it's own power.

"So, that's how it's gonna be..."

The vulpine cautiously stepped out of his cell into the hallway, looking left and right to check for anyone that had remained in the hallway while he had been sleeping. Slightly satisfied from nobody showing themselves, Fox fully exited. The feeling of slight freedom already felt wonderful, despite him being locked up for only a few hours at most. He certainly didn't plan on going back.

The lights ran dimmer than usual, letting Fox see clearly in the hallway having to shield his eyes. Whoever was doing this was considerate, at least. With few other options, Fox quietly made his way to the other end of the hall, reaching the door undisturbed. The empty cell block clearly helped, as his light flickering and the sound of his door sliding open most certainly would've woken anybody else sleeping.

Fox quickly noticed a small, red, blinking light hiding in the dark above. The dim lights didn't reach into the corner, but Fox could see the vague silhouette of a small camera looking down on him. It was clear someone was watching him now, the vulpine staring into it's lens, hoping to look whoever was on the other end in the eye.

The security door slid open in front of him, no doubt by command from his unknown benefactor. With nowhere else to go, Fox peeked through the doorway, remembering the long hall connecting the smaller cell blocks on this level of the building. He jumped back slightly upon looking down, seeing the bodies of two Cornerian guards, unmoving on the floor.

"_Damnit... The General's going to pin this on me..."_

Fox couched down, looking to see if either of them were alive. He quickly noticed the lack of any sign of fight, or struggle. No obvious wounds or cuts on both guards, either. Both had collapsed on either side of the door where Fox had seen them posted hours ago, it was as if they had simply fallen over simultaneously without issue. He checked for a pulse on both, finding them each fortunately still alive.

Fox wasn't sure how to feel anymore; The fact that these two were still alive would give the General less legal ammunition, but the fact remained he was pretty much the only suspect to pin the blame on.

Sighing, Fox picked up one of the fallen guards electroshock rifle, slinging it over his shoulder. He considered checking the power cell, but quickly assumed the guard kept a fresh one inside the weapon before he mysteriously collapsed by the door.

"Sorry..."

Pressing onward through the dim light, Fox crept down the hallway, rifle held out front. He remembered the hallway led to a pair of elevator shafts. There was little doubt in his mind that whoever was watching him could control the lifts, too.

A good few long seconds later, Fox rounded a corner. Finally reaching the two pairs of elevator doors that served this floor of the building.

"...Another one?"

A third guard sat sprawled out motionless on the floor, probably having been taken down by whatever, or whoever had gotten to the first two. Fox's face became concerned, a hint of worry that he'd soon fall victim to whatever fate had befallen the guards. He forced himself to remain calm, settling on the idea whoever was in control of the building's systems clearly had something to do with it.

Fox reached the elevator panel, it marked with a total of 23 floors, not including the two basement levels. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he didn't need to answer that question himself. The elevator doors parted open, showing off Fox the brightly-lit interior of an awaiting elevator car. Fox looked around the hallway, finding another camera to stare at.

"Fine... I'll play your game..."

* * *

Sehbastian stepped out into the hallway from his small cabin, making sure to close- and lock the door behind him. He'd had issues with others in the crew stealing from him, and theft of seemingly random objects had gone up in the past few days, especially after they had loaded _it_ into one of the Galleon's hangars.

The Galleon's hallways were little more then cramped, cold metal corridors. The ship was originally a large freighter, designed to haul standardized shipping containers from A to B, not support pirate raids and boarding actions. The Atlas-class superfreighter buried somewhere beneath makeshift armor and other slapped-on subsystems wasn't uncommon to be repurposed into a makeshift warship, with it being a common target of pirate attacks. Some found adrift would be hauled off to some old Venomian shipyard, cargo holds then ripped apart and replaced with trusses to hold weapon mounts and hangars for equally devious strike craft.

Of course, this didn't leave much room for crew space, let alone hallways. The lupine grumbled something as his ears clipped an overhead pipe, quickly remembering to duck for nearly every obstruction.

"Damn this ship..."

He had been ordered to consult the Captain; Something about parts simply vanishing and never turning up. Nothing critical had gone missing, minor things like loose parts, electronics, interior panels; Nothing that seemed vaguely related to each other, other then being made of some sort of metal. He personally expected it being some of the crew responsible, as Captain Pretrov didn't run as tight of a ship that Sehbastian would've liked. He certainly wasn't going to bother the Captain about it though, not yet anyways.

The halls of the Galleon stretched onwards, lacking proper lighting in some areas. Any proper warship wouldn't have a quarter of the problems the rebuilt Atlas did, but being far from a proper warship...

Sehbastian turned a corner in one of the ship's many junctions, approaching the Captain's cabin. The door had been reinforced with scraps of durasteel, easily being the strongest door on the ship minus the bulkhead blast doors. He gave the hardened door a swift, but solid knock. The Captain answered back after only a short moment, likely 'finishing up' with one of the ship's female crew members.

"That you, Sehbastian?"

"Yes sir, you wanted to see me?"

"...One moment."

After another full minute of waiting, the cabin's door slid open. A barely-dressed wolfess quickly stepped out, giving Sehbastian a strange look. She quickly scampered off down the hall before he could give her a second thought though. He stepped inside the cabin shortly after, seeing The Captain messing with one of his many ear piercings while sitting on the bed. The bedding was hardly what Sehbastian would call made, it only confirming his suspicion beyond any doubt. The room wasn't what anyone would call first-class, as bare metal and exposed conduit and other electrical equipment running along the walls didn't convey any sense of luxury.

"Captain?"

"Ah, yes... Quartermaster Sehbastian..." The Captain sat up from his bed, casually walking over to a small fridge the cabin originally came fitted with. "I'll make this quick. As you know very well, I-We... Have had a problem with theft. Now, I don't give rat's ass about petty theft, but things that have gone missing have become increasingly valuable. I've gotten reports of missing electronics, components, servos... Had one few hours ago of fuel cells from fighters just... Disappearing. Whoever is doing this certainly cannot hide these stolen goods forever, ship is only so big, you know? Now, before I give you authorization to disturb normal operations with ship-wide investigation, do you have any idea who is doing this? I have own suspicions, but you are better with these things."

"...Well... I've only noticed these reports on the rise only after we had hit that Cornerian ship earlier, and ever since we brought that _thing_ aboard."

"What thing?"

Sehbastian gave the Captain a puzzled look, as if he was somehow unaware what he had himself authorized to bring aboard less then 24 hours ago. "That big aircraft-looking thing? The one wedged in the Cornerian ship's fuel tank? It was missing a wing?"

"...Ah, ah, right, that thing. It is the strangest thing, yes? My men don't even like looking at it. But no, I don't think it has anything to do with theft. Go take a look at it , if you insist. But I don't think it's responsible."

Sehbastian raised an eyebrow, seeing the Captain's strange behavior and language, talking like it was somehow capable of stealing, almost personifying it in a strange way. He was right about the crew acting strange while being in it's hangar, always averting their eyes from it's presence, as if the plane was some sort of old king that would punish anyone who dared look at him.

"...Well, I've got no other leads as of now... I suppose that hangar is the best place to start."

The Captain chuckled, grabbing a drink from the fridge. "You're wasting your time, I think... But whatever you think is best."

Not wanting to spend anymore of the Captain's time, Sehbastian turned for the door. Before he could exit, however, Pretrov spoke up.

"Before you go... Just so you know, between you and me... The crew might not like it, but I plan on getting that aircraft-looking thing repaired. I know people who specialize in this sort of thing. If not... Then it will fetch good price with the Remnants."

"...I understand..."

"Good, now get out of here. I want this solved before we get to Venom in few days."

"Right, yes sir."

Sehbastian finally walked out of the cabin, the door closing behind him. He personally hated what they had brought aboard, he couldn't help but feel a sense of heavy dread weighing down on him even just thinking about it. With a sight, and not wanting to prolong the inevitable, he turned down the hallway, making his way towards the hangar.

Another few minutes of walking later, Sehbastian had reached the hangar's blast door, separating the large open space from the rest of the ship's interior. It could quickly be sealed off in case of a hull breach, provided the system was still working properly after the 'carrier' conversion job. There was no keycard of any sort, just a small keypad to enter a four-digit code into. The specific number was only really in place to keep some low-ranking deckhand from walking in and stealing something, but that clearly hadn't been working as of late.

Sehbastian entered his code, the keypad beeping in confirmation from receiving the correct input. Getting the right signal, the thick door slowly rolled open into the wall. He had expected someone to be left behind to guard it, but there was nobody about to do so. He would've considered it odd, but judging by what on the other side of the door, and how it the crew seemed almost afraid, the door being unguarded almost made sense.

"Alright, you weird piece of crap..."

Sehbastian stepped through the doorway, into the hangar proper. The gantries usually reserved to hold a small force of four starfighters had been dismounted and shoved against the wall, along with most of the support equipment. The fighters themselves had been moved to cold storage, or in other words, magnetically attached to the outside of the ship's hull. The current centerpiece, however, was the only thing he was really concerned about.

It wasn't really like anything he'd seen before, it was clearly a ship of sorts, but it just felt _wrong_. He couldn't describe the feeling as he laid his eyes upon it again. It's long, sleek fuselage seemed to be made of a single, featureless material. No bumps, seams, weld marks, anything to show it was assembled in any usual fashion could be seen, almost as if the entire craft was cast as a near-single part with it's smooth curves. It looked like it belonged more in the atmosphere of Corneria rather than deep space, with two large canards just behind it's opaque cockpit. It's main wings were swept forwards, massive things bigger then anything that should belong on a fighter. Two large engine exhausts stuck out behind it, each topped with _two_ vertical fins.

As he'd seen before, one wing was missing from the craft entirely, likely shaved off from the violent impact from the Cornerian's Pathfinder. Sehbastian approached the craft, finally seeing how big it simply was. Just from mentally visualizing the average Lupine pilot's size compared to the ship's cockpit, it could've easily been built for someone standing a few heads taller. Any hope of it being from any faction he knew of in Lylat was thrown out the airlock entirely when the quartermaster noticed the large gun pod underslung on the intact wing. It looked like it belonged to a kinetic weapon, and a large one at that.

Pulling his eyes away from the craft, the quartermaster began looking around the hangar. The idea that someone was stealing parts and hiding them here wasn't lost on him, seeing how none of the crew liked frequenting this part of the ship, so perhaps someone had been leaving a stash here. His first stop was to poke around a few loose crates; Something he'd usually reprimand the crew for. Hard maneuvers from the ship could throw anything that wasn't tied, bolted down, or otherwise secured was commonly a hazard to anyone nearby. He'd seen the worse of it on other ships, and certainly wanted to avoid this ship's own cargo taking more lives then anybody they boarded.

Remembering he didn't have an incredible amount of time, Sehbastian began searching through the stack. It only took a few minutes, only coming up empty-pawed of anything regarding his little investigation. He kept searching, throwing around boxes almost haphazardly in an attempt to hurry.

"Damnit..."

Throwing his paws up in frustration, Sehbastian looked to the other side of the hangar, spotting another stack of loose cargo crates. He almost ran across, giving the craft sitting in the middle a wide berth as he did so. Begrudgingly starting to pop open the first one in line.

"_...Hold on... It's just some crates, why am I panicking?" _

Sehbastian slowed himself down, inwardly chuckling to himself about getting rather worked-up.

"_Kinda strange, not usually not like this..."_

Knowing the dry taste of alcohol was rather effective at calming him, Sehbastian reached into a pouch on his uniform, pulling out a metallic flask. He quickly took a swig, letting the bitter drink do it's work as he leaned against a crate near the wall. It was silly, really; The two days before the Galleon arrived at Venom was more then enough of time to find whoever was behind this little mess. Not that it mattered anyways, he'd steal a shuttle as they approached their destination planet anyways, should he fail.

The middle of his next drink however, unfortunately, was interrupted.

It started as a small, metallic crinkling noise, as if someone was crushing a ball of aluminum foil nearby. It quickly grew louder, and unless someone had a _lot_ of foil in the hangar, the possibly the sound was simply in his head could be ruled easily and rapidly ruled out. Movement on the wall instantly caught his eye, with the stack of crates he'd searched earlier beginning to slowly move towards the _middle_ of the hanger.

Sehbastian reached for his holstered sidearm with his left paw, not wanting to drop his flask.

"Stop it right there!" He yelled, raising his blaster pistol to point the gun in the direction of the wandering crates. Nobody responded however, and the pile soon toppled over. Parts spilled out across the deck plating, power cells, tools, electronics- all dumped into one giant mess. They too, however, began moving under their _own _power, all drawn towards the middle of the hangar across the floor, like a big magnet dragging up shards of scrap metal.

Sehbastian wasn't quite sure how to react, so his twitchy paw decided for him. Squeezing his gun's trigger, the gun went off with the usual ruby-red muzzle flash and _bang_, sending an ionized beam of gas into the pile of moving components. The narrow beam slammed into the mass in an instant, sending a small cloud of sparks and smoke where it impacted, boiling off moisture and fragile materials in a puff. Startled by the negligent discharge, Sehbastian nearly jumped in his fur, letting off another accidental shot, this time 'aimed' at the center of the hangar. The beam blazed through the air, impacting the craft's hull just below the cockpit. Instead of leaving a burn mark in the otherwise pristine hull, the shot simply ricocheted off where it had hit. Following in a new direction, the poorly-aimed beam instead found it's home in the roof of the hangar, or more specifically, an exposed fuel line.

Before he, or anything else really, could react, the entire room was consumed with a massive roar of sound and pressure, followed by a rather sizable fireball nearly an instant behind. Sehbastian found himself propelled through the air by the shockwave, slamming into the parked craft's hull. Sehbastian's world was quickly consumed by fire and excruciating pain, his vision shifting into black as he lapsed into the world of unconsciousness, but he didn't feel himself falling to the floor again as he finally passed out.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, been going through some rough times at home as of late. Don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I'm not abandoning the story or anything.**


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